V.V 


* 

STOR1ES 


ELIZABETH  AND  JOSEPH  GRINME3J. 


N 


LIBRARY 

OF   THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 
Class 


LINNETS   IN   PEACH   TREE 


WESTERN  SERIES  OF  READERS.  —  VOL.  IX 


STORIES    OF 


OUR    WESTERN    BIRDS 


BY 


ELIZABETH  AND  JOSEPH   GRINNELL 

AUTHORS  OF  "OUR  FEATHERED  FRIENDS,"   "  BIRDS  OF  SONG  AND  STORY,"  ETC. 


W.  K.  FISHER 

OF    STANFORD    UNIVERSITY 


SAN   FRANCISCO 
THE   WHITAKER  AND  RAY  COMPANY 

(INCORPORATED) 
1903 


< ^ 


COPYRIGHT,  1903,  BY 
THE  WHITAKER  AND  RAY  COMPANY 


PREFACE. 

IT  is  a  matter  of  common  notice  that  bird-life  offers  the  most 
attractive  outdoor  object  of  interest  to  the  average  schoolboy. 
The  almost  human  personality  of  birds,  their  varied  form  and 
color,  their  ceaseless  activity,  their  evasiveness,  —  all  conspire 
to  arouse  an  intense  curiosity.  And  why  should  we  not  en- 
courage this  curiosity?  If  properly  directed,  it  is  certainly  a 
valuable  and  ready  incentive,  to  be  seized  upon  and  harnessed 
into  the  process  of  education.  The  keenness  and  accuracy  of 
observation  cultivated  by  the  overcoming  of  that  very  elusive- 
ness  so  characteristic  of  birds,  will  remain  long  after  the  bird 
itself  is  forgotten.  It  is  a  significant  fact  that  many  of  our 
greatest  scientists  and  professional  men  admit  their  earliest 
active  interest  to  have  been  in  bird-study,  to  which  stage  in 
their  mental  development  we  may  attribute  a  good  part  of  that 
training  so  invaluable  in  their  later  more  serious  lines  of  work. 
In  the  following  simple  descriptives,  my  mother  and  I  have 
tried  to  help  arouse  and  direct  interest  in  bird-study  among 
school-children,  as  well  as,  possibly,  older  folks.  It  has  been 
our  aim  to  present  a  fair  amount  of  information,  but  diluted 
with  enough  of  the  commonplace,  so  as  not  to  balk  the  most 
timid  spirit  of  inquiry.  We  want  the  reader  to  finish  each 
chapter  with  a  wish  to  find  out  more  things  for  himself  by 

direct  observation  of  the  living  bird. 

JOSEPH  GRINNELL. 
STANFORD  UNIVERSITY,  CALIFORNIA, 
February  9,  1903. 


107590 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

THE  LINNET 7 

THE  MOURNING  DOVE 15 

THE  BLACK  PHOEBE V     .    21 

WOODPECKERS     .     .     . '  ..-    •     ^  •  •••••     •     •     31 

THE  CROW      *v     .     .     :':§    V   -^>  .     ...",',/•;..    .     .     41 

THE  WESTERN  ROBIN       .     .     •     -     -     .....     .     .     .    45 

THE  SONG-SPARROW    .     .     ...     ...»    .     .     .     .     ..    .    53 

THE  BELTED  KINGFISHER .    \     .60 

THE  CALIFORNIA  JAY       .     .  •    ••   ••     •     6? 

AUDUBON'S  WTARBLER  .     .........          ....     75 

THE  MOCKING-BIRD     .     ....     .     .     ...          ...     .    84 

THE  AMERICAN  COOT  ........          .....     93 

KILLDEER  PLOVER  .     .     .     .     '.     .     .     .     ;     .......     97 

THE  WESTERN  GULL    .     .          .     .     ....     .,-...     .     .  103 

DIFFERENT  SPARROWS       . 109 

THE  BANK-SWALLOW 117 

THE  CLIFF-SWALLOW .•    -  .  •     •     •     •".    •     •     •  121 

THE  CEDAR  WAXWINO     .     .    '.     .     .     .     ,  ....  125 

THE  ROAD-RUNNER     .     .     .     .     .     .     .     r    .     .     .     .     .     .130 

OUR  WESTERN  WEENS 134 

THE  SHRIKE,  OR  BUTCHER-BIRD    ......     ....  141 

THE  BROWN  PELICAN  ...,,. 147 

THE  ARKANSAS  GOLDFINCH 153 

THE  TOWHEES 159 

THE  BURROWING  OWL 168 

THE  ANNA  HUMMING-BIRD 173 

THE  BUSH-TIT ,     .     .     .  181 

OUR  WEST  COAST  THRUSHES 189 

5 


ILLUSTRATIONS, 

PAGE 

LINNET'S  NEST •  ..   .     .     .     .     .  11 

THE  MOURNING  DOVE 17 

THE  BLACK  PHCEBE 22 

YOUNG  PHCEBE 24 

THE  CALIFORNIA  WOODPECKER 32 

THE  FLICKER 38 

THE  WESTERN  ROBIN  . 46 

SONG-SPARROWS 52 

THE  BELTED  KINGFISHER 61 

THE  CALIFORNIA  JAY .68 

AUDUBON'S  WARBLER  . 74 

YOUNG  YELLOW  WARBLER 81 

MOCKING-BIRD 85 

YOUNG  MOCKING-BIRD 88 

COOT,  OR  MUD-HEN 94 

KlLLDEERS        .....      98     S 

GULLS  WAITING  TO  BE  FED 102 

THE  FOX-SPARROW 110 

WHITE-CROWNED  SPARROW Ill 

YOUNG  CHIPPING  SPARROWS ....  113 

THE  ROAD-RUNNER 131 

VIGORS  WREN 137 

THE  SHRIKE,  OR  BUTCHER-BIRD 142 

THE  ARKANSAS  GOLDFINCH 152 

THE  BROWN  OR  CALIFORNIA  TOWHEE    ...          ....  162 

YOUNG  TOWHEE 165 

THE  BURROWING  OWL 169 

YOUNG  BUSH-TIT 182 

BUSH-TIT'S  NEST .     ,  185 

THE  VARIED  THRUSH  . .  192 

6 


. 


THE   LINNET. 


HE  linnets  are  our  nearest  neigh- 
bors. The  only  reason  why  they 
do  not  live  in  the  house  with  us 
is  because  they  are  shut  out  by 

Jsfjjjjir^^       the  screens.    We  love  them.    We 
^J        invite  them  to  stay  with  us.    We  plant 
many    things    on    purpose    for  them. 
We  feed  them  at  the  garden-table. 

But  many  people  do  not  love  them.  The  pretty 
birds  are  persecuted  in  ways  we  do  not  care  to 
describe.  They  are  shot,  poisoned,  stoned,  hated 
more  than  any  other  birds  in  the  Southwest.  And 
for  what  reason?  Why, 
farmers  say  they  "  eat  their 
fruit-buds  in  the  spring, 
and  what  fruit  there  is  left 
in  summer-time." 

Well,  it 's  true  that  lin- 
nets do  eat  some  fruit- 
buds.  But  the  whole  truth 
is,  they  never  take  half  as 
many  as  they  ought.  It 


REFERENCE    TOPICS. 

What  is  adobe  ? 

Adobe  houses. 

Spanish  colonization  of 
California. 

Uses  of  birds  in  milli- 
nery. 

Wanton  destruction  of 
birds  for  millinery 
trade. 

Herons  and  aigrettes. 

Fruit-drying  industry. 


8  WESTERN    SERIES    OP    READERS. 

would  be  better  for  the  trees  and  better  for  the 
markets  if  fewer  buds  were  allowed  to  "  set." 

In  southern  California,  this  year,  many  peach 
orchards  have  been  left  to  drop  their  fruit  on  the 
ground.  There  were  too  many  peaches  to  the 
tree,  and  the  same  with  the  apricots.  The  fruit 
was  small.  Five  dollars  a  ton,  and  sometimes 
three  dollars,  was  the  price  offered.  It  did  not 
pay  the  growers  to  market  the  fruit.  Had  there 
been  only  a  few  dozen  peaches  or  apricots  on  a 
tree,  these  few  would  have  brought  good  returns. 
So  we  read  in  the  farmers'  papers  this  advice: 
"Thin  out  your  fruit  in  the  spring!"  The  ordi- 
nary farmer  does  not  think  it  pays  him  to  hire  a 
man  at  two  dollars  a  day  to  pick  the  fruit  from 
the  overladen  branches.  So  the  apricot  and 
peach  orchards  are  left  to  their  own  way.  This 
way  is  to  ripen  bushels  to  the  tree,  and  these  are 
little  things  the  markets  do  not  want.  The  less 
fruit  on  a  tree,  the  larger  and  finer  it  is  sure  to  be 
when  ripe.  The  linnets  would  do  the  "thinning 
out"  for  the  farmers,  if  they  were  not  persecuted 
so.  The  birds  would  take  the  buds,  and  so  pay 
the  farmer  for  what  fruit  they  might  claim  in 
summer.  But  the  farmer  "hates  the  sight  of  a 
linnet,"  and  if  he  sees  a  dozen  of  them  in  a  peach 
tree,  in  the  spring,  or  any  other  time,  he  picks  up 


THE    LINNET.  9 

stones,  and  calls  the  dogs,  and  sets  his  OWii  boys 
after  the  poor  birds,  and  sometimes  does  worse 
things. 

In  some  parts  of  California  the  Russian  thistle 
is  making  its  way  into  the  fields  and  gardens. 
The  farmers  are  frightened.  They  are  holding 
up  their  hands,  and  crying,  "What  shall  we  do? 
What  shall  we  do?"  The  linnets,  standing 
close-by,  are  making  answer,  "We  will  do!  We 
will  do!"  The  farmers  hear  them,  and  throw 
more  stones  at  them.  They  do  not  understand 
the  linnets'  language. 

You  may  imagine  this  is  what  they  are  saying: 
"We  must  have  seeds  for  food  more  than  half  of 
the  whole  year.  We  have  always  lived  on  seeds. 
Before  the  people  came  and  set  out  orchards,  we 
ate  nothing  but  seeds  and  small  wild  fruits.  If 
you  will  let  us  live  and  have  a  little  of  your  fruit 
in  summer,  we  will  eat  up  all  the  thistle-seeds  as 
fast  as  they  ripen.  And  we  will  go  on  eating  all 
the  weed-seeds,  as  we  have  always  done.  We  will 
be  partners,  you  and  we,  and  do  each  other  good 
turns." 

In  fall  arid  winter  you  may  take  long  walks  into 
the  country  and  see  for  yourselves  what  the  lin- 
nets are  doing.  You  will  find  them  in  flocks  in 
weed-patches,  swinging  on  the  stems,  chatting 


10  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

about  their  work,  shelling  the  seeds  from  big  and 
little  plants,  and  picking  up  what  have  fallen  to 
the  ground.  Happy-go-lucky  birds  they  are  when 
they  are  out  of  the  farmer's  reach.  And  their 
songs  are  very  sweet.  The  linnets  are  among  our 
very  finest  singers.  Pleasant  of  voice,  they  never 
scold,  nor  " scrap"  with  other  birds.  They  love 
our  homes. 

Before  we  brought  fruit  trees  to  California,  and 
so  began  to  hate  the  linnets,  the  Mexicans  were 
very  kind  to  these  birds.  Early  travelers  tell  us 
they  nested  on  window-shelves,  under  cornices,  in 
the  tiles  of  the  roofs,  on  any  little  break  in  the 
adobe  house  walls,  and  even  on  the  picket  fences. 
The  native  people  were  fond  of  them,  and  not 
a  child  harmed  them.  They  were  called  the 
"adobe-bird,"  because  they  loved  to  be  around 
the  adobe  houses. 

In  the  cities  of  California,  the  linnets  build  in 
shade-trees  along  the  streets.  But  they  are  shy, 
the  male  keeping  well  out  of  sight.  Their  nests 
are  robbed  and  the  old  birds  persecuted,  even 
though  there  is  no  fruit  for  them  to  steal. 

If  the  city  children  knew  all  the  fun  there  is  in 
taming  the  linnets,  they  would  not  miss  it  for  the 
world. 

We  will  tell  you  a  little  of  what  we  have  done. 


THE    LINNET. 


11 


We  have  lived  in  a  California  city  for  many  years. 
Our  grounds  are  large  enough  to  grow  all  the 
common  fruits.  We  have  invited  the  linnets  to 
stay  with  us,  summer  and  winter.  There  are  a 
dozen  nests  under  the  eaves,  as  many  in  trees  and 


LINNET  S   NEST. 


shrubs,  and  no  end  of  nesting-material  placed 
within  sight  and  reach  of  the  birds.  We  nail 
cigar-boxes  on  the  sides  of  the  barn  and  wood- 
shed, and  berry-baskets  in  the  trees  and  upper 
balconies.  Linnets  nest  everywhere,  and  they 
sing  the  year  round  for  us. 

They  will  build  nests  "to  order,"  of  almost  any 


12  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

sort  of  material  we  give  them,  and  invite  us  to 
watch  how  they  do  it.  They  bring  all  the  other 
birds  to  the  grounds,  so  we  have  as  many  as 
thirty-five  varieties  in  the  garden  in  the  course  of 
a  few  weeks. 

Don't  they  eat  our  fruit?  Of  course  they  do. 
They  are  welcome  to  their  share.  And  we  can 
truthfully  say  they  take  no  more  than  their  own 
share.  We  have  little  tricks  we  play  for  them. 
We  sow  them  a  lettuce-bed,  plant  berry-vines, 
place  cull  oranges  cut  in  halves  about  the  garden, 
and  always  have  the  table  set  for  them.  And 
they  do  not  eat  us  out  of  house  and  home!  Lin- 
nets make  so  much  noise  about  their  meals,  peo- 
ple think  they  eat  more  than  they  really  do.  If 
they  would  keep  still,  the  farmer  would  not  know 
they  are  in  his  fruit-trees,  nor  would  he  miss 
what  they  take.  It  is  their  constant  chatter  that 
gives  them  away.  But  we  like  their  chatter!  It 
would  be  a  dreary  place  for  us  without  the  linnets. 
There  are  plenty  of  birds  and  other  people  who 
do  not  sing.  These  are  always  sad  or  cross. 
They  do  not  cheer  the  world  any.  Did  you  ever 
notice  that  the  people  who  hate  linnets  are  cross 
people?  They  turn  sour,  like  wilted  peaches. 

If  you  would  be  happy  as  linnets  the  whole 
time,  be  comrades  of  the  linnets.  Learn  what 


THE    LINNET.  13 

there  is  good  to  say  about  the  birds,  of  whatever 
sort,  and  tell  it  at  home  and  abroad.  Do  not 
covet  what  the  birds  eat.  Cover  up  your  share  of 
the  berries  in  the  garden  with  mosquito-netting, 
or  stand  guard  at  the  strawberry-bed  when  the  lin- 
nets and  sparrows  are  talking  about  "  berry-time." 
You  can  get  up  with  the  birds,  and  have  the  best 
time  in  the  day  before  sun-up.  While  you  are 
keeping  off  the  birds,  you  can  learn  what  there  is 
to  know  about  the  strawberry-plants.  See  the 
little  baby  strawberry-runners!  They  are  chil- 
dren of  the  old  plants.  They  are  tied  to  their 
mother's  apron-string  until  they  are  able  to  get 
their  own  living.  0,  it  is  a  good  thing  for  lin- 
nets, and  boys  arid  girls,  to  be  alive  in  California! 
They  might  go  to  school  together.  There  is  no 
bird  so  fitted  to  be  about  the  schoolhouse  as  the 
linnet.  Suppose  the  children  of  the  lower  grades 
spent  half  an  hour  a  day  watching  them?  And 
suppose  there  was  a  lettuce-bed  or  a  little  straw- 
berry-patch under  the  window  on  purpose  for 
both  to  study?  It  would  be  as  good  for  the  chil- 
dren as  playing  marbles.  An  owl's  nest  in  the 
belfry,  and  a  lettuce-bed  under  the  window!  Ah! 
these  would  make  a  kindergarten  indeed. 

The  wisest  men  and  women  and  the  smallest 
children  are  taking  more  interest  in  birds  than 


14  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

ever  before.  Bird-books  for  reading  are  found  in 
nearly  all  our  schools  in  America.  People  are 
beginning  to  understand  that  birds  were  made 
for  something  better  than  to  kill  for  sport,  or  to 
eat,  or  to  wear  in  horrible  shapes  on  bonnets. 

Everybody  is  wanting  to  find  out  something 
new  about  our  birds.  Professors  from  our  uni- 
versities are  going  to  the  far-off  corners  of  the 
world,  to  the  islands,  to  the  polar  and  the  torrid 
regions,  to  study  birds.  They  want  to  find  out 
all  there  is  to  know  about  their  ways,  their  nest- 
ing habits,  their  plumage.  The  school  children 
of  the  West  could  be  a  great  help  to  the  scientific 
world  by  learning  new  things  about  our  common 
birds.  Take  the  linnets,  for  instance.  How  many 
sorts  of  weed-seeds  do  they  eat?  It  would  give 
the  boys  and  girls  many  a  long  tramp  to  find  this 
out,  and  they  should  make  notes  of  what  they  see, 
in  a  little  note-book  carried  in  the  pocket.  They 
could  bring  home  specimens  of  all  the  seeds,  and 
the  botany  teacher  could  name  them.  And  by 
and  by  even  the  farmers  would  change  their 
minds  about  the  linnets,  all  on  account  of  what 
the  children  have  found  out.  And  the  linnets 
will  be  loved,  instead  of  hated,  as  certain  spar- 
rows in  the  New  England  States  are  now  loved 
for  what  they  are  doing  for  man,  where,  years 
ago,  they  were  despised  and  driven  away. 


THE   MOURNING   DOVE. 


IKE  all  the  pigeon  family,  the  mourn- 
ing dove  has  a  very  small  head, 
set  on  broad  shoulders.  Any 
child  would  recognize  it  at  a 
glance.  As  for  its  song,  its 
name  describes  it,  —  a  sad 
coo-oo,  very  low,  or  quite 
loud  and  strong.  It  is  sometimes,  a  sweet  note, 
with  less  of  the  sadness.  But  it  is  true  that  the 
voice  of  the  mourning  dove  never  "  cheers  a  per- 
son up,"  like  that  of  the  flicker  and  the  robin. 

The  nesting  season  of  this  dove  is  from  Feb- 
ruary to  September.  The  nest  itself  is  a  flat 
structure,  with  no  attempt  on  the  part  of  the 
builders  to  show  skill  or  beauty.  Just  a  few  sticks 
and  straws,  and  it  is  done.  It  may  be  on  the 
ground,  or  in  low  bushes,  or  higher  in  the  trees. 
And  the  eggs  are  only  two, 
of  a  spotless  white. 

Both  parent  birds  feed 
the  young  by  regurgitating 
the  food  they  have  them- 


REFERENCE   TOPICS. 
Tame  pigeons. 
Game  seasons. 
Object  of  game  laws. 
Game-preserves.  • 


15 


16  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

selves  eaten  and  partly  digested.  You  will  seldom 
see  mourning  doves  in  compact  flocks,  like  the 
blackbirds  and  finches.  They  are  most  often  in 
pairs,  or  in  groups  of  four  or  six.  They  are  very 
fearless  during  the  season  in  which  they  are  pro- 
tected by  law,  and  are  sometimes  seen  with  the 
hens  in  the  barn-yards,  or  in  stubble-fields  close 
to  the  farm-house.  They  are  ground-birds,  and 
get  their  living  by  what  they  pick  up,  —  seeds 
and  grains,  and  perhaps  some  fruits  like  grapes 
and  berries. 

A  pair  of  mourning  doves  are  true  and  faithful 
to  each  other>  and  are  said  to  be  mated  for  life. 
But  the  life  of  any  dove  in  the  West  may  be  very 
short  indeed.  From  August  1st  to  February  1st 
they  are  hunted  and  shot  without  mercy. 

During  the  summer,  they  were  so  happy  and  so 
tame!  They  would  come  to  drink  at  fountains 
and  streams  right  in  your  sight,  and  often  fly 
past  you,  so  near  you  could  have  touched  them. 
But  one  morning  there  came  a  sudden  fright  to 
the  trustful  little  doves;  and  before  they  knew 
what  was  happening,  a  dozen  shots  were  in  the 
air,  and  as  many  fluttering  birds  fell  dead.  Mates 
were  separated,  parents  and  children  were  lost  to 
one  another,  and  those  who  escaped  on  that 
morning  were  hunted  the  next  day.  It  does  n't 


THE    MOURNING    DOVE.  17 

take  very  long  to  "thin  out"  the  mourning  do'ves 
in  the  hunting  season,  so  we  cease  to  see  them 
about  our  homes  or  in  the  open  fields  and  on  the 
mesas. 

They  and  the  quail  retire  farther  and  farther 
away,  and  learn  to  keep  very   still    and    out  of 


THE   MOURNING    DOVE. 


sight.  They  grow  to  be  very  alert  and  wary, 
seeming  to  recognize  the  sound  of  a  shotgun  from 
a  long  distance.  And  well  they  know  what  the 
loud  report  may  mean!  It  is  a  sad  time  of  the 
year,  and  nobody  seems  to  get  any  pleasure  out  of 
all  the  killing,  save  the  hunters,  and  they  call  it 
"sport." 

We  have  heard  of  several  attempts  to  domesti- 
cate the  mourning  doves,  but  they  are  said  to  be 

W.S.K.  VOL.  9  —  2 


18  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

usually  afraid,  and  to  refuse  to  be  tamed,  even 
when  they  are  petted  and  fed  for  a  long  while. 

There  was  something  very  wonderful  happened 
to  us  a  year  ago.  We  were  in  the  garden,  talking 
about  the  thrushes,  and  the  phcebes,  and  the  lin- 
nets, when  there  came  the  whirr  of  wings,  and  a 
mourning  dove  alighted  in  a  pear  tree  close  to 
where  we  were  standing.  We  looked  at  one 
another  in  wonder,  when  the  bird  flew  straight  to 
one  of  us  and  alighted  on  his  shoulder.  From 
that  day  on,  and  for  nearly  a  year,  that  mourning 
dove  was  our  household  pet.  It  went  in  and  out 
on  our  heads  or  shoulders,  slept  on  the  picture- 
frames  or  the  curtain-poles,  or  on  the  cupboard 
doors.  It  ate  only  bird-seed  which  the  canary 
left  when  it  flew  away,  and  a  very  few  bread 
crumbs.  We  knew  it  to  be  a  female,  because  it 
lacked  the  shining  tints  and  velvety  spots  of  the 
male. 

It  went  away  one  day,  but  returned  after  sev- 
eral weeks,  and  seemed  glad  to  be  back  again. 
We  learned  to  love  it  very  much.  And  strangers 
wondered,  when  they  came  to  see  us.  The  first 
thing  a  visitor  would  know,  when  seated,  was  a 
flutter  from  the  next  room,  and  the  dove  alighted 
on  his  or  her  hat.  (This  is  the  only  bird  on  a 
lady's  hat  which  we  have  ever  enjoyed  looking  at; 


THE    MOURNING    DOVE.  19 

and  the  only  one  we  have  ever  seen  which  had  a 
natural  look.) 

If  the  visitor  were  a  gentleman,  the  dove  flew 
straight  to  his  bare  head  and  peeped  over  his 
forehead,  as  if  to  see  what  color  his  eyes  were. 
But  Dovie  always  preferred  ladies  and  girls;  and 
children  she  loved,  flying  back  and  forth  from 
one  to  another  as  if  delighted  to  see  them.  In 
spring  she  began  to  peep  into  the  closets  and  over 
the  shelves,  and  in  the  baskets  and  hats  and 
paper  bags.  All  the  time  she  would  "coo-oo" 
low  to  herself,  and  sometimes  fly  to  our  shoulders 
and  rub  her  pretty  head  on  our  cheeks  and  caress 
our  faces  with  her  beak. 

One  day  one  of  the  family  was  making  ginger- 
cookies,  and  went  to  the  closet  for  the  spices. 
There,  on  top  of  the  spice-box,  was  a  handful  of 
twine,  and  in  the  middle  of  the  twine  a  white  egg. 

After  this,  during  the  summer,  Dovie  made 
seven  nests  and  laid  seven  eggs.  She  never  laid 
more  than  one  egg  in  the  same  place.  And  the 
nests  were  light  and  loose,  just  as  the  nests  of  the 
mourning  dove  are  made  in  the  wilds.  No  at- 
tempt at  building  up  the  sides,  or  at  soft  linings. 
Sometimes  she  took  only  bits  of  white  cloth  and 
strings,  and  twice  she  went  to  the  work-basket 
and  selected  pretty  bits  of  lace  and  baby  ribbon. 


20  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

This  particularly  nice  nest  she  made  on  top  of  the 
piano  in  the  parlor,  under  the  breasts  of  a  couple 
of  stuffed  white  ptarmigan. 

She  made  one  nest  on  the  library  shelf,  one  in 
the  crown  of  an  old  hat  on  the  back  screen  porch, 
one  on  the  shelf  in  the  clothes-closet,  and  one  be- 
tween two  pegs  where  clothes  were  hanging. 
There  happened  to  be  a  dress  sleeve  caught  aslant 
of  the  two  pegs,  and  on  this  she  made  her  nest 
and  laid  her  egg. 

The  whole  story  of  our  Dovie  would  make  sev- 
eral chapters.  We  have  told  enough  about  her  to 
make  you  wish  that  you  had  a  wild  dove  come  to 
you  and  live  in  your  house  for  a  whole  year. 
When  you  are  out  in  the  fields  or  foothills,  and 
see  the  doves,  please  call,  "Dovie,  Dovie,"  and 
perhaps  our  pet  will  come  to  you.  But  do  not 
shoot  her!  Indeed,  no  hunter  could  have  the 
heart  to  shoot  her,  for  if  she  saw  him  in  time,  she 
would  fly  straight  to  his  shoulder  and  say, 
"Coo-oo,  coo-oo." 


THE   BLACK   PHCEBE. 


TS  name  is  always  Phoebe,  old 
or  young,  male  or  female. 
And  the  bird  named  itself. 
For  fear  we  might  forget, 
and  call  it  Susan,  or  Maggie, 
or  Mary,  or  Tom  or  Charles, 
it  keeps  saying,  "Phoebe," 
over  and  over,  the  whole  year. 

Each  bird  calls  its  mate  Phoebe,  and  the  par- 
ents call  all  their  young  ones  Phoebe;  and  they 
all  together  cry  "  Phoebe  "  when  they  are  hungry. 
You  hear  it  from  the  barn  or  house  roof,  from 
low  weed-stalks,  from  the  top  of  the  garden  hy- 
drant, from  the  wood-pile,  anywhere  from  any 
lookout  point.  The  plaintive  note  comes  from 
the  clothes-line,  where  the  bird  balances,  tilting 
up  and  down  until  it  can 
catch  sight  of  that  insect 
again. 

People  who  are  not 
cheerful  by  nature  do  not 
like  the  phoebe's  note. 


REFERENCE   TOPICS. 
The  honey  industry. 
Life-history  of  bees. 
Social   and    solitary   In- 
sects. 
Structure  of  stings. 


21 


w 

M 

ti 

S 
M 


THE    BLACK    PHCEBE.  23 

But  merry  folks,  who  like  to  laugh  at  anything, 
will  tell  you  they  love  to  hear  it,  especially  on  a 
foggy  morning. 

There,  sits  the  bird  right  before  you,  on  the  top 
of  the  barn-door,  which  you  left  open!  She  is 
turning  her  head  to  one  side  in  the  familiar  way 
she  has.  She  ruffles  her  small  crest,  and  looks 
all  over  as  if  she  had  dressed  for  breakfast  in  a 
hurry.  Her  habit  of  lifting  her  feathers  gives 
one  the  idea  that  she  is  a  very  careless  bird, 
always  in  poor  dress.  But  it  is  not  so!  She  is 
tidy,  even  when  she  is  on  the  edge  of  the  puddle 
for  mud.  She  may  have  a  beakful, 'but  not  a 
speck  is  on  her  breast,  or  face,  or  wings. 

We  leave  the  garden  hydrant  dripping  on  pur- 
pose for  Phoebe,  from  March  to  August,  as  this  is 
her  nesting-time ;  and  phoebe-birds  must  have 
water  at  nesting-time. 

She  may  bring  off  three  broods  during  the 
spring  and  summer.  With  four  to  a  brood,  that 
would  make  twelve  young  phoebes  a  year  for  each 
nest  made.  And  yet  phoebe-birds  are  not  so  very 
common  about  our  homes.  We  have  but  one  or 
two  pairs  with  us,  though  we  tempt  them  to  come 
by  all  the  ways  we  know. 

The  phoebes  build  under  the  eaves,  if  they  can 
find  the  least  shelf  for  the  first  load  of  mud. 


24  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

With  too  small  foundations,  these  nests  usually 
fall  by  their  own  weight. 

You  may  see  the  phcebes  peeping  about  under 
all  the  cornices,  almost  any  day  in  the  year.  To 
be  sure,  their  main  errand  is  for  food;  but  they 


YOUNG    PHCEBE. 


take  notes  about  the  good  nesting-nooks,  and  re- 
member when  the  time  comes. 

We  nail  cigar-boxes  under  the  barn  eaves  for 
the  phoebes.  We  have  a  pair  which  have  nested 
in  one  box  five  times.  It  is  under  the  projecting 
gable  of  a  low  stable  roof,  on  the  north  side. 
They  seldom  choose  the  south  or  west.  They  like 


THE    BLACK    PHCEBE.  25 

shade  and  coolness.  The  young  would  die  in  the 
hot  south  sunshine,  and  the  mud  nest  would 
crack  with  the  sun  directly  on  it. 

The  edges  of  our  box  gave  Phoebe  a  footing 
while  she  was  making  the  nest  and  caring  for  the 
young  ones.  When  they  were  feathered,  they 
leaned  over  the  side  of  the  box  and  cried, 
"  Phoebe,  Phoebe,"  instead  of  "  Mamma,  mamma." 
No  other  young-  birds  we  know  can  speak  so 
plainly. 

As  soon  as  they  could  fly,  the  mother  brought 
all  four  of  them  to  the  rose-trellis  by  the  beehives, 
where  they  cried  in  concert,  "  Phoebe,  Phoebe," 
as  if  they  were  talking  to  the  bees.  But  the  bees 
paid  no  heed  until  they  were  obliged  to.  It  was 
drone-time,  and  the  big  bumming  fellows  were 
filling  the  air. 

What  are  drones?  They  are  the  males  of  the 
common  honey-bee.  They  are  larger  than  the 
worker-bees,  very  lazy,  and  fly  only  in  the  middle 
of  the  day,  when  the  weather  is  very  warm. 
They  never  bring  a  drop  of  nectar  to  the  hive, 
nor  do  they  help  at  the  work  inside  the  house. 
They  just  eat  and  eat,  and  get  in  the  way  of  the 
workers.  You  have  heard  a  lazy  boy  called  a 
"drone"?  Probably  it  is  not  because  he  eats  so 
much,  "but  because  he  does  not  help  with  the 
home-work. 


26  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

Well,  the  phoebes  are  very  fond  of  these  big 
drones.  Mother  phoebe  snatched  one  as  it  was 
booming  back  to  the  hive.  Any  one,  even  a  bird, 
can  tell  by  the  sound  when  drones  are  in  the  air. 
She  brought  it  to  the  trellis  and  banged  it  against 
the  bar.  Then  she  gave  it  to  a  young  phoebe. 
You  should  have  seen  the  fun!  Get  yourself  a 
beehive,  and  you  will  soon  have  the  phoebes  about 
your  place.  The  little  phoebe  next  to  the  mother 
took  the  drone,  and  the  next  young  phoebe 
snatched  at  the  other  end  of  him.  Each  pulled 
as  hard  as  it  could,  and  of  course  the  drone  came 
in  two  somewhere.  But  the  tail  of  the  drone  had 
no  sting,  and  so  the  fellow  that  got  the  head  was 
no  better  off  than  its  brother,  who  got  the  tail. 
Drones  never  do  have  a  sting,  and  that  is  the 
reason  the  mother  phoebe  likes  to  feed  them  to 
her  young  ones.  And  she  taught  them  early  to 
choose  the  drones,  when  near  the  hives.  And 
she  was  teaching  them  to  sit  still  and  watch.  A 
good  lesson  for  anybody  to  learn ! 

Phoebe  does  not  catch  insects  while  soaring  on 
the  wing,  as  the  swallows  and  swifts  do.  She  sits 
on  the  watch  arid  makes  a  dive  or  lunge  through 
the  air,  just  as  the  kingfisher  sits  011  his  perch 
and  dives  into  the  water  for  fish. 

Sometimes  the  phoebes  see  a  saw-bug  or  small 


THE    BLACK    PHCEBE.  27 

beetle  crawling  on  the  ground,  and  they  make  a 
dive  for  it,  not  walking  or  even  standing  on  the 
ground,  but  supporting  themselves  by  their  wings 
while  they  snatch  it.  Their  feet,  like  the  feet  of 
the  humming-birds,  are  made  for  perching,  not 
for  walking  or  standing  on  flat  surfaces. 

Once  our  phoebe  was  late  in  relining  her  old 
nest  under  our  eaves  in  the  box,  and  linnet  laid 
her  own  eggs  in  it.  Phoebe  came  and  told  her,  in 
a  very  mournful  voice,  that  the  nest  was  hers; 
that  she  had  built  it  in  the  first  place,  and  had 
already  occupied  it  four  times.  But  linnet 
would  n't  move  out.  She  said  she  had  "rented 
the  house  for  the  season,"  and  phcebe  would  have 
to  go  somewhere  else.  At  least,  this  is  what  we 
supposed  she  was  saying. 

Phoebe  pulled  at  linnet's  shoulder  and  said 
harsher  notes  to  her.  Then  she  called  father 
phoebe,  and  they  both  tried  to  get  linnet  out  of 
the  nest.  Linnet  poked  her  beak  out  at  them  as 
if  to  fight  them,  but  cuddled  down  more  firmly 
into  the  nest.  Then  she  called  father  linnet,  and 
he  argued.  And  they  all  four  argued.  At  last 
the  phcebes  gave  it  up,  and  went  off  to  a  neigh- 
bor's barn.  But  they  watched  their  turn,  and 
one  day,  as  soon  as  the  young  linnets  had  tum- 
Med  out  of  the  nest,  phcebe  took  her  place,  nor 


28  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

did  she  give  it  up  when  linnet  asked  her.  Twice 
has  linnet  had  that  nest,  and  five  times  has 
phcebe  had  it.  Each  bird  relines  it  before  laying 
her  eggs.  The  swallow  claimed  it  last  summer, 
as  you  will  see  in  the  swallow  chapter. 

The  black  phcebe  is  one  of  our  most  trustful 
birds,  and  is  resident  all  over  California.  It  lives 
on  insect  food,  and  so  is  a  very  good  friend  to  the 
farmer,  and  the  housekeeper.  It  is  up  early  for 
the  flies  on  the  screens  and  under  the  spouting, 
and  sits  up  late  for  the  insects  that  love  the  twi- 
light. It  has  been  seen  to  catch  moths  and  lace- 
wings  by  lamplight. 

We  have  not  seen  the  male  assist  at  the  nest- 
building,  but  he  is  always  close-by  to  hear  the  call 
of  his  mate.  He  helps  to  feed  the  young  and  to 
teach  them  how  to  fly.  Should  they  fall  in  at- 
tempting too  long  a  flight  for  the  first  time,  he 
flies  straight  down  to  them  and  tells  us  exactly 
where  to  find  them.  The  young  do  not  leave  the 
nest  as  early  as  other  birdlings  which  are  hatched 
from  nests  in  bushes  and  close  trees.  The  phoeb.es 
are  usually  high  up,  and  can  see  nothing  to  tempt 
them  out  of  the  nest.  You  may  see  them  peeping 
over  in  a  half-frightened  way.  If  they  catch  sight 
of  you,  they  will  bob  their  heads  down  behind 
the  nest  rim.  If  you  climb  to  the  nest  and  put 


THE    BLACK    PHOEBE.  29 

up  your  hand,  expecting  to  find  out  how  young 
phoebes  would  look  and  feel  in  the  palm  of  your 
hand,  you  will  he  disappointed.  Out  will  fly  all 
four  of  them  before  you  touch  them.  And  it  is 
surprising  what  a  long  journey  this  first  flight 
usually  is.  They  must  be  surprised  themselves. 
How  did  they  know  they  had  wings?  But  you 
frightened  them,  and  the  wings  of  a  scared  bird 
seem  to  grow  in  half  a  minute  or  less. 

They  have  been  seen  far  down  in  mine-shafts. 

The  phoebes  do  not  nest  in  colonies,  like  the 
swallows.  We  have  not  seen  a  phcebe's  nest  near 
the  nest  of  any  of  her  phcebe  friends.  They  like 
to  be  alone. 

There  is  a  little  boy  in  San  Luis  Rey,  whom  we 
have  not  seen,  but  who  writes  us  letters  about  the 
birds  he  sees  around  his  home.  He  is  too  young 
to  go  to  school,  and  writes  in  print.  Once  he 
made  the  picture  of  a  bird  which  he  told  us  was 
very  tame  about  the  house,  but  "loves  to  stay  all 
by  himself,"  "  very  black,  with  a  white  waistcoat." 
And  would  we  "  please  tell  him  what  it  was"  ? 

Had  he  not  told  us  a  word  about  the  "white 
waistcoat,"  and  the  bird's  habit  of  "sitting  all 
alone."  we  should  have  recognized  the  phcebe  by 
its  picture  drawn  with  pen  and  ink.  The  head 
is  large  and  slightly  crested,  and  the  long  black 


30  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

wings  droop  well  down.  It  is  a  splendid  picture 
of  a  phoebe.  The  little  boy  who  could  draw  it  at 
seven  years  of  age  will  some  day  make  an  Audu- 
bon  or  a  Wilson. 

If  children  would  more  often  make  a  picture 
of  the  birds  they  see,  what  a  fine  photograph- 
album  they  would  have  by  and  by!  Learn  the 
expression  of  the  whole  body,  —  how  the  head  is 
carried,  how  long  the  legs  are,  and  what  sort  of 
beak  and  feet  the  subject  has.  A  note-book  with 
a  picture  on  each  page  would  be  so  interesting! 
The  picture  would  head  the  page,  and  beneath  it 
would  be  the  written  description,  colors,  habits, 
food,  and  place  of  residence.  Try  it! 


WOODPECKERS. 

hOULD   the  woodpecker  tell   his 
own  story,  it  would  be  worth 
the  hearing,  and   take  him  a 
good  while  to  tell  it. 
It  would   need   no  patience  on  our 

part  to  listen,  for  no  other  bird  has  ways  so  drolly 

interesting,  —  no,  not  even  the  jay  or  the  crow. 
And  he  ought  to  be  able  to  tell  a  good   story, 

with  such  a  tongue  as  he  has  in  his  saucy  head. 

Not  that  he  uses  his  tongue  to  talk  or  to  sing 

with;  but  he  does  stranger  things  with  it. 

If  your  eyes   are   sharp,  and  you   are  able  to 

stand  quite  still  among  the  oaks,  so  nobody  will 

know  you  are  about,  you  may  chance  to  catch  a 

glimpse    of    woodpecker's 

tongue.     Not  that  he  was 

ever  known    to  "put   out 

his  tongue"  for  anybody 

to     see,  —  not     he  !       He 

thrusts    it    out    suddenly, 

and  into  crevices  of  bark, 

and      cracks      anywhere, 

31 


REFERENCE    TOPICS. 

Wood-boring  Insects. 

Lumber  industry. 

Structure  and  use  of 
woodpeckers'  tail- 
feathers. 

Acorn-storing  habits  of 
woodpeckers. 

Who  was  Audubon  ? 


WOODPECKERS.  33 

and  little  holes,  for  any  dainty  morsel  of  an  insect 
which  may  be  hiding. 

The  bird  will  hardly  give  you  time  to  notice 
that  the  very  tip  of  his  tongue  is  barbed  like  an 
arrow,  or  the  spines  of  a  cactus.  These  barbs  are 
placed  on  the  tip  of  the  woodpecker's  tongue  on 
purpose  to  hold  onto  things  with. 

It  is  very  interesting  to  watch  the  woodpecker 
among  the  trees  in  quiet  places,  poking  about 
with  his  tongue  in  the  haunts  of  the  beetle  folk 
that  would  only  be  too  glad  to  get  out  of  his 
reach.  And  they  would  get  away  in  a  hurry, 
many  a  time,  were  it  not  for  the  barbs  on  the 
rascal's  tongue.  These  barbs  seize  right  hold  of 
an  insect  and  draw  it  out  of  its  snug  quarters. 
You  see,  the  barbs  slant  backwards  towards  the 
throat  of  the  bird,  and  so  they  brush  whatever  is 
in  their  way  straight  into  the  open  beak  of  the 
woodpecker. 

Should  you  say  to  the  woodpecker,  "  Let  me  see 
your  tongue,  if  you  please,,  sir,"  and  the  bird 
should  put  it  out,  you  would  notice  that  it  pro- 
jects as  far  beyond  the  tip  of  the  beak  as  the 
length  of  the  beak  itself;  and  you  would  wonder 
what  he  does  with  it  when  he  is  done  putting  it 
out. 

If  by  any  chance  you  should  come  upon  a  dead 

W.  S.  E.  VOL.  9  —  3 


34  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

woodpecker,  you  might  ask  the  teacher  to  dissect 
the  head,  so  all  the  children  in  the  room  could 
see  exactly  how  the  tongue  works.  You  would 
find  that  it  is  divided  in  the  throat  into  a  pair  of 
slender  gristle  bones.  These  bones  pass  clear 
over  the  back  of  the  skull,  coining  down  in  front 
to  beneath  the  nostrils.  A  narrow  strip  of 
muscle  goes  along  with  them,  to  help  them  move 
back  and  forth.  So,  when  a  woodpecker  pleases, 
he  is  able  to  stretch  his  tongue  far  beyond  his 
beak. 

And  the  bird  has  use  enough  for  such  a  tongue. 
It  does  its  best  work  in  the  dark.  It  is  so  sensi- 
tive, we  might  almost  conclude  the  bird  smells 
with  it.  If  it  finds  an  insect  too  small  for  the 
barbs  to  get  good  hold  of,  the  woodpecker  wets  the 
tip  of  its  tongue  with  saliva  from  its  mouth.  Of 
course  the  insect  sticks,  and  comes  out  of  its 
hiding-place,  just  as  the  woodpecker  would  have 
it.  It  is  on  the  same  principle  that  you  wet  the 
end  of  your  finger  to  pick  up  a  very  small  flat 
seed. 

The  saliva  of  the  woodpecker  is  made  after  a 
sticky  fashion;  and  the  more  the  insect  kicks 
against  the  "tanglefoot"  paste,  the  closer  it  sticks 
to  the  tongue  of  the  bird. 

But  the  tongue  would  be  of  little  service  with- 


WOODPECKERS.  35 

out  the  beak  behind  it.  The  beak  is  strong  and 
hard.  It  is  hammer,  and  auger,  and  ax,  and 
wedge. 

A  few  feet  from  the  window  where  we  are 
writing  is  one  of  those  great  black  walnut  trees  we 
have  mentioned  before.  This  very  minute  a 
woodpecker  is  hammering  away  with  all  his 
might.  His  big  head  bobs  up  and  down  as  if  it 
were  a  hammer-head  driving  a  nail  into  the  tree. 
He  is  holding  on  by  his  toes,  and  partly  bracing 
himself  by  the  tips  of  his  pointed  tail-feathers. 

His  toes  are  not  like  those  of  most  birds. 
There  are  two  of  them  that  point  forward,  and 
two  that  point  backward,  or  downward,  when  he 
is  on  the  tree-trunk.  He  has  no  fear  of  falling  or 
slipping.  He  might  take  a  nap  in  the  selfsame 
position,  were  -we  not  going  to  open  the  door  at 
this  particular  moment. 

We  go  out  towards  the  tree  silently  and  slowly. 
Woodpecker  observes  us,  and  takes  a  hitch 
around  the  trunk  in  a  fashion  of  his  own.  He 
would  have  us  think  he  has  gone  away  to  the 
woods.  We  wait!  We  know  his  tricks!  Now 
his  big  round  head  appears  slyly  from  behind  the 
tree,  and  he  takes  a  hurried  look  our  way.  Now 
he  takes  another  hitch,  and  so  we  follow  him 
quite  around  the  tree.  He  stops  to  hammer  be- 


36  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

tween  spells,  and  this  gives  us  time  to  walk  closer. 
Our  great  American  bird  student,  Audubon,  tells 
this  story  of  the  woodpecker  as  he  knew  the 
bird:- 

"When  alighted  on  a  fence-stake  by  the  road 
or  in  a  field,  and  one  approaches  them,  they 
gradually  move  sidewise  out  of  sight,  peeping  now 
and  then  to  discover  your  intention.  When  you 
are  quite  close  and  opposite,  the  birds  will  lie  still 
until-  you  have  passed,  when  they  hop  to  the  top 
of  the  stake  and  rattle  upon  it  with  their  bill,  as  if 
well  pleased  with  their  trick.  Should  you  ap- 
proach within  arm's-length,  which  you  may  often 
do,  the  woodpecker  flies  to  the  next  stake,  bends 
his  head  to  peep,  and  rattles  again,  as  if  to  invite 
you  to  go  on  with  the  game.  He  alights  on  the 
roof  of  the  house,  goes  along  it,  beats  the  shingles, 
utters  a  cry,  and  dives  down  into  your  garden  to 
help  himself  to  your  best  strawberries." 

When  our  woodpecker  flies,  he  looks  as  if  he 
wears  a  white  gown,  with  a  black  cloak  thrown 
over  his  shoulders,  and  a  crimson  cap  on  his 
head.  As  for  his  eyes,  they  are  white  or  pink, 
and  they  look  so  droll,  something  like  the  eyes  of 
the  blackbirds  on  the  lawn. 

Now  he  is  running  up  and  down  and  all  around 
a  pepper  tree  in  the  front  garden.  We  should 


WOODPECKERS.  37 

say  that  he  runs  up,  and  backs  down  the  tree;  for 
he  does  not  run  head  down,  as  the  creeper  and 
some  of  its  relations  do. 

He  is  making  little  round  holes  in  the  bark  of 
the  pepper  tree.  He  has  already  made  this  tree 
look  very  oddly  marked,  as  if  it  were  done  on 
purpose  to  show  us  what  a  fine  wood-carver  he  is. 
Some  of  the  holes  are  in  rows,  and  others  scat- 
tered or  in  imperfect  rings.  Many  of  them  were 
made  some  time  ago,  and  are  full  of  white  sap, 
now  dried  into  white  gum  or  resin.  Woodpecker 
picks  this  gum  out,  but  he  has  better  manners 
than  to  chew  it  in  company.  Indeed,  he  never 
does  chew  it  at  all.  We  suppose  it  melts  or  soft- 
ens after  it  is  swallowed,  and  digests. 

Some  of  the  little  holes  in  the  bark  are  old  and 
black,  and  the  bird  finds  nothing  in  them.  He 
simply  peeps  into  them  as  he  goes  around, 
making  fresh  holes,  and  taking  gum  from  others. 
He  may  imagine  it  was  himself  that  stored  the 
white  gum  in  the  holes,  as  he  is  known  to  store 
other  things.  The  truth  is,  he  simply  bored  the 
hole,  and  the  tree  secreted  the  gum  for  him. 
First  it  was  juice,  and  then  it  congealed  into  wax. 
You  can  taste  it  for  yourself.  You  will  wonder 
what  woodpecker  wants  of  such  gum  as  that. 

Some   woodpeckers  are   thrifty.     They  have  a 


38  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

way  of  "  saving  something  for  a  rainy  day,"  which 
other  people  would  do  well  to  imitate.  One  kind 
of  woodpecker,  called  the  "  flicker,"  was  seen  to 
drop  acorns  into  a  hole  in  the  roof  of  an  old  barn. 
As  often  as  he  dropped  the  nut  in,  he  peeped  down 
to  see  it,  but  it  was  out  of  sight.  Usually,  he  can 


THE    FLICKER. 


see  what  he  is  hiding,  and  judge  if  it  is  properly 
done.  Not  seeing  his  acorn,  he  went  on  dropping 
more  into  the  hole,  as  if  he  were  bent  on  filling  it 
to  the  brim.  But  it  was  more  of  an  undertaking 
than  he  supposed.  He  gave  it  up  after  a  few  days. 
It  would  have  taken  more  acorns  than  a  hundred 
woodpeckers  could  find  to  fill  that  empty  old 
barn.  That  was  a  good  joke! 

Woodpeckers   make   their  nests  at  the   end   of 


WOODPECKERS.  39 

long,  deep  holes  in  tree  trunks.  A  boy  sees  a 
hole  far  up  the  side  of  an  old  tree,  and  he  thinks 
"now  is  his1  chance."  Hasn't  he  "wished  he 
could  find  a  woodpecker's  nest"  for  many  a  day? 
After  a  while,  after  breaking  his  suspenders,  and 
tearing  his  clothes,  and  getting  smut  from  last 
year's  forest  fires  all  over  himself,  he  reaches  the 
hole.  It  is  much  deeper  than  he  supposed.  His 
arm  seems  shorter  than  it  ought  to  be,  and  he 
tries  the  other  arm.  Should  he  reach  the  bottom 
of  one  nest  out  of  half  a  dozen  that  he  is  lucky 
enough  to  find,  he  may  wish  he  had  n't ;  for 
snakes  very  often  make  their  homes  in  such  places 
after  they  have  been  deserted  by  their  original 
owners.  Possibly  the  bird  has  told  the  boy  ex- 
actly where  to  find  the  nest,  by  dropping  a  pile  of 
chips  at  the  foot.  "Woodpeckers  and  carpenter- 
bees  have  a  way  of  scattering  their  chips  about  at 
the  base  of  the  tree  they  are  working  in.  Thus 
are  these  "workmen  known  by  their  chips,"  as 
says  the  old  adage. 

The  eggs  of  the  woodpecker  are  from  four  to 
six.  They  are  white  and  glossy,  like  the  china 
eggs  used  for  nest-eggs  in  a  poultry -yard. 

Besides  insects  under  leaves,  under  bark,  and 
in  decayed  wood,  some  woodpeckers  catch  moths 
arid  flies  on  the  wing  almost  as  well  as  the  true 
fly-catchers. 


40  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

In  fruit  and  nut  time  they  "live  high,"  and 
this  is  when  the  farmer  wishes  there  were  n't  any 
woodpeckers,  and  he  sets  his  boys  to  "shooing" 
the  birds  away. 

If  the  boys  surprise  a  woodpecker  in  the  or- 
chard at  a  late  apple  tree,  he  will  plunge  his  beak 
into  a  sample  and  fly  off  to  cover  with  it,  as  much 
as  to  say,  "  I  '11  have  one  out  of  your  hundreds, 
any  way!  Follow  me  and  get  it! " 

Woodpecker  knows  a  corn-field  from  a  marsh 
meadow  or  an  orange  orchard;  and  he  loves  to 
strip  down  the  corn-husks.  He  listened  outside, 
clinging  to  the  tall  stalk,  and  he  heard  the  fat 
worm  gnawing  its  own  breakfast  inside.  In 
taking  the  worm,  he  incidentally  tastes  of  the 
milky,  sweet  juice  of  the  corn,  and  smacks  his 
mouth  for  more.  The  farmer  thinks  he  comes 
for  the  corn,  when  in  truth  he  is  after  the  worms, 
that  are  there  before  him.  But  woodpecker  and 
Mr.  Farmer  have  a  misunderstanding  about  the 
matter.  Woodpecker  is  waiting,  with  many  other 
birds,  for  the  boys  to  tell  the  farmers  they  are 
more  good  than  harm. 


THE   CROW. 


HEREVER    the    crow   "caws," 
there  is  trouble.     He  may  not 
make  the  trouble  himself,  but 
other  people  will.    The  farmer 
::^^^ar^    sees  him  at  work  or  play  in  the 
^    ~^^-  field, "and    shoots   at   him.      The 
crow  usually  flies  off,  mumbling 
something  about  "  only  hunting  for  grubs  !     Did 
n't  mean  to  pull  up  the  corn  too." 

The  crow  is  a  relative  of  the  blue  jay,  and  has 
many  of  the  habits  of  the  jay.  The  jay  wears  a 
prettier  coat  than  the  crow,  and  perhaps  it  is 
on  this  account  that  he  is  not  so  commonly 
despised.  Crow  has  a  hard  life  of  it,  let  him 
live  where  he  may.  Next  to  the  linnet,  our 
farmers  hate  him.  All  farmers  everywhere  hate 
him,  and  so  unlucky  crow  keeps  as  well  out  of 
sight  as  he  can. 

No  need  of  telling  any 
one  that  the  crow  is 
black.  You  would  as  soon 
look  for  a  red  and  blue 

41 


REFERENCE   TOPICS. 
Scarecrows. 
Corn-planting. 
Life-history      of     wire- 
worms  and  cut- worms. 


42  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

stovepipe  as  for  a  crow  of  any  other  color  than 
black. 

Perhaps  it  is  because  the  crow  is  black,  and  he 
knows  it,  that  he  shuns  the  open  country  as  much 
as  he  can.  He  loves  best  the  dark  woods.  Here 
he  is  not  so  easily  seen.  He  has  learned  to  be 
wary.  All  his  forefathers  and  foremothers  have 
been  despised,  and  the  instinct  to  keep  out  of 
reach  is  born  in  him.  Especially  does  he  keep 
at  long  range  when  a  hunter  is  in  sight. 

But  whatever  may  be  said  against  the  crows, 
they  have  a  virtue  which  should  commend  them 
to  Western  people.  It  is  said  that  a  pair  of 
crows,  once  mated,  never  separate  as  long  as  they 
live.  They  take  each  other  "for  better  or  for 
worse."  And  if  left  undisturbed,  they  use  the 
same  nesting-site  year  after  year. 

To  be  sure,  it  is  not  much  of  a  nest,  only  a  few 
sticks  laid  up  loosely  on  the  branch  of  a  tree. 
The  eggs  are  four  to  six,  greenish,  dotted  with 
browns.  In  the  low  lands  the  nesting-season  is 
in  April  and  May. 

Though  the  crows  do  not  nest  in  our  gardens, 
they  are  known  to  visit  our  farm-yards  and  fields 
when  they  are  hungry,  like  any  tramp.  They  are 
seen  to  follow  hunters  when  they  are  out  camp- 
ing, like  the  jay,  for  what  crumbs  and  scraps  they 


THE    CROW.  43 

may  find.  They  are  accused  of  taking  eggs  from 
the  nests  of  smaller  birds  and  flying  off  with 
them,  to  eat  them  at  their  leisure.  That  is  no 
more  than  we  all  do,  is  it  ?  Do  not  we  all  hunt 
eggs,  and  think  we  have  fine  luck  if  we  chance 
upon  a  hatful  in  the  mow  ?  Crow  can  take  but 
one  at  a  time,  since  he  wears  no  hat. 

Crows  are  really  useful  birds,  and  the  farmers 
should  not  despise  them  so.  They  take  thou- 
sands of  insects,  that  are  worse  enemies  to  the 
farmer  than  the  crows  themselves.  Wonder  if 
the  farmers  will  believe  this!  The  boys  might 
watch  and  see  if  this  is  true.  The  boys  might 
form  boys'  farmers'  clubs  on  purpose  to  report 
for  the  birds  who  are  unable  to  speak  for  them- 
selves. It  would  be  great  fun,  as  well  as  a  useful 
work  for  the  interests  of  agriculture. 

Perhaps  you  will  not  see  the  crows  in  large 
flocks,  but  oftener  in  pairs,  or  in  autumn,  in  fami- 
lies of  five  or  six.  They  seem  to  be  holding  con- 
ferences together  at  times,  sitting  on  bare  limbs 
of  trees  and  chattering  in  their  own  dialect. 
Tamed  crows  make  interesting  pets.  There  was 
one  in  our  family  once,  for  a  while;  but  on  ac- 
count of  his  habit  of  hiding  grandmother's  spec- 
tacles, and  sister's  thimbles,  and  father's  pennies, 
he  wa's  excused  from  living  with  us  very  long. 


44  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

He  had  a  sly  way  of  hunting  through  coats  and 
vests  that  happened  to  be  left  in  his  sight.  He 
knew  how  to  find  the  pockets,  and  stole  what  hap- 
pened to  he  in  them.  Cunning  fellow!  and  a 
thief  as  well! 


THE   WESTERN   ROBIN. 


XWAYS  the  robin  is  the  robin, 
for  you  know  the  bird  by  its 
red  breast,  unless  it  happen  to 
be  very  young,  when  the  breast 
is  speckled.      The  robin  is  a 
little  wanderer,  but  no  tramp; 
*"*    he  works  for  his  living  wher- 
ever he  goes,  and  so  does  his  whole  family. 

They  come  south  in  large  flocks  in  winter-time, 
going  back  into  the  mountains  to  the  north  of  us 
when  spring  comes,  to  nest  and  raise  their  young. 
The  nest  of  the  robin  is  the  same  on  whichever 
side  of  the  Rockies  you  may  find  it,  —  in  the 
crotch  of  a  tree,  made  of  sticks  and  mud,  lined 
with  hairs.  And  the  eggs  are  ever  the  same  little 
greenish-blue  gems.  They  may  be  four,  and 
they  may  be  five. 

Just  as  our  first  rains  of 
winter  are  dripping  from 
the  tree  boughs,  there 
comes  a  familiar  cry  from 
somebody,  "  The  robins 


REFERENCE  TOPICS. 

Shade-trees    and     ever- 
greens. 

Value    of    angleworms. 

(See    DARWIN'S    Vegetable 
Mould  and  Earth- Worms.) 


45 


IP 


THE    WESTERN    ROBIN. 


THE    WESTERN    ROBIN.  47 

have  come!  The  robins  have  come!  "  and  we  run 
to  see.  There  they  are  in  the  pepper  trees. 

Our  pepper  trees  seem  to  ripen  their  clusters  of 
red  berries  on  purpose  for  the  robins  (and  the 
waxwings),  and  these  birds  never  leave  us  until 
they  have  stripped  the  boughs.  They  swallow 
the  fruit  whole,  and  throw  up  the  bare,  hard  seeds 
after  the  sweet  pulp  has  digested.  You  can  hear 
the  patter  of  the  seeds  on  roof  and  sidewalk. 

Our  little  friend  from  San  Diego  writes  that  the 
robins  and  waxwings  put  pepper-seeds  in  the 
water-troughs.  He  says,  "  The  birds  must  bring 
them  a  good  ways,  as  there  are  no  pepper  trees 
near  the  troughs."  If  he  watches  this  winter,  he 
will  notice  that  just  before  the  robins  come  to 
drink,  they  are  in  the  pepper  trees,  and  of  course, 
when  they  drink,  they  spit  out  the  seeds,  as  they 
have  no  use  for  them. 

One  would  think  they  might  stop  long  enough 
to  eat  their  meals  properly,  arid  reject  the  kernels 
in  the  first  place;  but  if  you  try  tasting  the 
pepper-berries  for  yourselves,  you  will,  see  that 
the  meat  is  on  the  outside  of  the  shell,  instead  of 
being  within  the  shell,  like  a  nut.  And  the  sweet 
meat  sticks  to  the  pepper-seed,  so  the  bird  must 
swallow  it  to  soak  it  off.  There  is  always  a  good 
reason  for  what  birds  are  doing,  if  one  can  only 
get  at  it. 


48  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

Everywhere  the  robin  goes  he  carries  his 
cheerful  song  with  him,  and  you  may  sometimes 
imagine  a  flock  are  holding  a  low  conversation 
with  each  other.  Their  red  breasts  and  black 
heads  make  our  lawns  very  beautiful  of  a  Jan- 
uary morning,  before  the  angleworms  have 
gone  back  into  the  ground.  Up  all  night,  and 
out  to  get  a  breath  of  air,  these  earthworms  have 
left  little  roadways  all  over  the  top  of  the  ground, 
especially  if  it  happened  to  rain  in  the  night. 
Angleworms  are  like  water-birds;  they  like  a 
little  of  the  water,  but  too  much  of  it  would 
drown  them.  Robins  seem  to  know  all  about 
this,  so  they,  too,  are  out  bright  and  early  to  look 
over  the  situation. 

Always,  in  any  country,  the  robin  and  the 
angleworm  are  bosom  friends.  We  do  not  know 
another  bird  on  such  intimate  terms  with  the 
bare,  smooth  angleworms.  The  mockers  will  not 
touch  them. 

Robins  are  supposed  to  listen  to  the  worms 
when  they  are  about  their  business  below  the 
lawn,  and  the  poor  little  fellows  are  snapped  up 
before  they  see  daylight.  If  indeed  they  do  see 
anything!  However,  an  earthworm  has  some 
privileges  the  robin  has  not,  be  his  breast  ever  so 
red. 


THE    WESTERN    ROBIN.  49 

If  a  robin  snatches  at  a  worm,  and  the  worm 
resists,  —  as  who  would  riot?  —  the  robin  and  the 
worm  part  company  somewhere.  Usually  it  is 
in  the  middle  of  the  worm.  Robin  swallows  his 
share,  and  the  worm's  own  share  of  himself  dis- 
appears deep  in  the  ground,  out  of  sight  arid 
hearing.  By  and  by  his  wounds  heal,  and  he  is 
a  good  fat  worm  again,  as  long  as  any  other 
worm,  arid  as  good  eating. 

Should  robin  lose  both  pieces  of  a  worm  that 
is  bitten  in  two,  there  will  be  two  worms  in  due 
time,  able  to  come  out  on  a  wet  night  and  look 
around.  Should  the  two  meet,  they  will  not 
recognize  each  other  as  having  been  just  one 
worm  some  time  back.  Robin  will  eat  them  both 
in  good  time',  if  they  don't  watch  out. 

But  robin  has  his  turn  at  bad  luck.  Chip- 
munk, who  loves  fresh  eggs  for  breakfast  better 
than  he  loves  anything  else  in  the  world,  keeps 
one  eye  on  a  pair  of  robins  at  nesting-time.  He 
sees  them  getting  mud  and  sticks,  and  he  laughs 
in  his  sleeve.  He  knows  what  they  are  getting 
mud  and  sticks  for.  Arid  he  knows  just  when 
the  eggs  are  all  laid.  Some  bright  morning, 
when  robins'  backs  are  turned,  the  eggs  will  dis- 
appear. 

This  little  red  rascal  with  a  striped  back  loves 

w.  s,  K.  VOL.  9  —  4 


50  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

young  robins  almost  as  well  as  fresh  eggs,  and  in 
his  walks  about  the  woods  he  listens.  Chipmunk 
gets  very  hungry,  —  almost  as  hungry  as  a  boy 
when  school  is  out,  —  and  who  can  blame  him  for 
eating  the  first  thing  he  comes  across? 

But  chipmunk  takes  not  all  the  robins,  any 
more  than  robin  takes  all  the  angleworms  and 
grasshoppers  and  garden  fruits.  Enough  young 
robins  are  left  in  the  nests  for  another  year;  and 
late  in  the  fall  and  winter  the  old  robins  and  the 
old  chipmunks  may  be  seen  talking  over  their 
troubles  while  they  sun  themselves  on  a  forest 
log. 

We  place  food  all  about  our  grounds  for  the 
robins.  They  like  bread  and  butter,  and  cake 
and  pie.  Water  sweetened  with  molasses  is  their 
delight,  when  once  they  have  found  it  out. 

Birds  are  like  other  sensible  people,  —  they  do 
not  jump  at  conclusions.  If  you  put  out  a  dish 
of  food  for  them  which  they  have  never  seen  be- 
fore, they  pass  it  by  with  a  glance,  or  sample  it 
with  great  care.  They  want  to  be  quite  sure  it  is 
good  eating.  And  the  birds  watch  one  another 
at  table!  If  a  robin  sees  a  sparrow  or  a  mocker 
eating  a  new  sort  of  food,  it  takes  right  hold  itself, 
as  if  it  had  been  used  to  such  a  dish  all  its  life. 

It  seems  as  though  the  same  robins  come  back 


THE    WESTERN    ROBIN.  51 

to  our  garden-table  each  winter,  for  they  go 
straight  to  the  place  where  they  ate  their  last 
breakfast,  as  if  they  remembered. 

Farmers  think  they  "  remember,"  too,  and  they 
accuse  the  robins  of  stealing  things.  They  do 
not  stop  to  think  that  every  young  robin  is  fed 
its  own  weight  in  insects  every  day  it  lives.  And 
most  of  these  insects  are  enemies  of  the  farmers' 
crops. 


SONG-SPARROWS. 


THE    SONG-SPARROW. 


OU  would  know  the  song-spar- 
row by  its  voice  anywhere,  just 
as  you  know  the  members  of 
your  own  family  who  speak 
in  the  next  room.  They  are 
among  our  sweetest  singers.  True? 
the  song  is  never  long,  but  it  is 
hearty  and  full  of  cheer.  You  like  to  hear  it  on 
a  foggy  morning  or  in  the  drip  of  the  rain.  If 
something  has  troubled  you,  and  you  are  too  sad 
to  see  any  of  your  other  friends,  you  welcome 
the  song-sparrow,  and  listen  to  what  he  has  to 
say. 

He  sings  wherever  the  notion  takes  him,  —  on 
the  ground,  in  a  shrub,  on  a  log  spread  out  flat  in 
the  sunshine,  on  the  rim  of  the  water-dish  you  so 
kindly  keep  for  him  in- the  garden.  He  sings  at 
his  meals,  between  mouth- 
fuls,  before  daylight,  after 
dark,  at  high  noon,  and 
we  have  heard  his  note  in 
the  night,  as  if,  like  many 

63 


REFERENCE   TOPICS. 

Pampas  plumes :  natives 
of  \vhat  country? 

Uses? 


54  WESTERN    SERIES    OP    READERS. 

another  bird,  he  were  talking  in  his  sleep.     Even 
his  chirp  is  not  unmusical.  « ~ 

While  his  mate  is  patiently  sitting  upon  her 
four  or  five  speckled  eggs,  the  singer  seems  never, 
to  quit  his  song.  He  remains  near  her,  as  if  the 
sound  of  his  voice  would  cheer  her  up.  And 
when  once  the  eggs  have  hatched,  the  two  old 
birds  are  seen  always  together,  pecking  in  the 
mulching  beneath  the  trees,  scratching  in  the 
dead  leaves,  or  hunting  amid  the  foliage  of  low 
shrubs.  All  the  time  they  are  hunting  for  food 
for  their  little  ones,  they  keep  up  that  constant 
chatter,  as  if  it  were  the  happiest  thing  in  the 
world  to  be  obliged  to  scratch  for  a  living. 
Always  their  tails  stick  straight  up,  very  much 
like  the  tail  of  a  wren.  And  they  have  a  way  of 
jerking  their  tails  in  a  sociable  wa^y,  as  if  it  helped 
on  the  conversation. 

We  have  the  song-sparrows  always  with  us,  in 
summer  and  winter.  You  see  them  in  pairs  the 
year  round,  not  in  flocks.  They  love  the  great 
bunches  of  pampas-grass  so  common  in  the  gar- 
dens of  California.  As  you  walk  past  the  waving 
grasses,  there  is  a  rustle  and  a  chirp,  and  out  flies 
a  song-sparrow.  And  they  love  the  closely 
clipped  hedges  as  well.  We  have  found  more 
nests  in  the  pampas-grass  and  the  hedges,  than 


THE    SONG-SPARROW.  55 

anywhere  else.  It  is  dark  and  sheltered  here, 
and  the  birds  have  a  way  of  creeping  into  places 
nobody  else  would  think  of.  And  their  nests  are 
always  dark  in  color,  suiting  the  shadows  where 
they  are  placed.  The  base  is  of  grasses  or  little 
twigs,  but  the  inside  is  lined  very  thickly  with 
black  horsehair.  We  have  got  into  the  habit  of 
picking  up  the  combings  when  the  horse  is 
groomed,  all  the  year  round,  and  tying  it  about 
low  tree-limbs  or  sticking  it  in  the  cracks  of  the 
woodshed.  Song-sparrow  finds  it  in  due  time. 
We  have  had  light  bay  horses,  but  combings  from 
these  the  sparrows  never  choose.  They  leave  the 
red  hairs  for  the  linnets,  who  build  where  the  sun 
shines,  more  than  in  the  shadows.  Light  colors 
are  not  so  readily  seen  in  the  bright  light  as  in 
darker  places^  And  it  would  never  do  for  the 
song-sparrows  to  build  their  nests  in  plain  sight. 
They  place  them  too  low.  So  they  have  their 
own  way  of  hiding  them.  Sometimes  they  nest 
in  our  bamboo  thickets.  When  the  young  are 
half-fledged,  they  slip  out  of  the  nest  and  slide 
down  the  smooth  bamboo  stalks  to  the  close 
growth  below,  where  they  are  safe  from  cats  and 
other  enemies. 

The  way  they  have  of  slipping  out  of  the  nest 
before  they  are  able  to  fly  gets  them  into  many 


56  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

troubles.  We  have  found  a  baby  song-sparrow 
hanging  to  the  nest  by  one  toe,  quite  unable  to 
help  itself  out  of  the  difficulty.  Horsehair  makes 
good  stout  ropes,  and  can  be  depended  upon  to 
hold  onto  when  the  bird  gets  its  toes  tangled  up  in 
it.  This  does  not  often  happen.  Once,  when  it 
did  happen,  the  old  birds  fed  the  young  one  until 
it  was  grown,  the  poor  prisoner  not  being  able  to 
get  away.  We  saw  the  parents  taking  food  to  the 
bamboo  long  after  we  had  seen  the  young  ones 
fly  out.  By  careful  search  we  found  the  prisoned 
bird  and  cut  the  hair  that  held  it. 

The  sparrows  eat  almost  anything,  from  tender 
shoots  of  plants  and  soft  buds  to  insects  of  many 
sorts,  and  even  to  cooked  food.  We  always  keep 
something  out  for  them.  We  sometimes  think 
they  have  the  sense  of  smell,  for  they  will  find  a 
slice  of  bread  and  butter,  hidden  anywhere  in  the 
garden,  almost  as  soon  as  we  are  out  of  their  way. 

No  need  of  always  making  crumbs  for  the 
birds;  they  like  good  fat  slices  as  well  as  anybody 
does.  And  their  strong  beaks  seem  made  on 
purpose  for  breaking  up  crusts.  Our  farmers 
make  a  mistake  sometimes  when  they  think  the 
sparrows  are  eating  up  their  grain.  They  are 
more  often  hunting  the  weevils  that  eat  holes  in 
the  grain,  and  other  insects  that  like  the  nutty 


THE    SONG-SPARROW.  57 

taste  of  wheat  and  barley.  When  we  get  into  a 
habit  of  thinking  evil  of  anybody,  it  is  hard  to 
quit.  Farmers  have  fallen  into  the  habit  of 
thinking  evil  of  the  sparrows  and  of  calling  them 
hard  names.  But  the  birds  keep  on  doing  a  good 
turn  for  those  same  farmers,  and  waiting  until 
they  are  better  understood. 

A  person  who  spends  his  time  finding  out 
things  about  birds  watched  a  pair  of  sparrows  a 
whole  day,  just  to  be  sure  they  are  useful  birds. 
He  counted  carefully,  and  discovered  that  the  old 
birds  fed  exactly  forty  grubs  an  hour  to  the 
young  ones  in  the  nest.  Now,  what  are  grubs, 
that  sparrows  should  hunt  forty  of  them  an  hour 
for  baby-food?  They  are  the  young  of  beetles. 
We  have  many  harmful  beetles,  that  do  much 
mischief  to  our  trees  and  vegetables.  Their 
young  ones  are  wrapped  up  in  little  bundles,  and 
live  for  a  while  in  the  moist  ground  under  the 
trees,  where  the  mulching  is  loose  and  rich.  We 
call  these  young  beetles  "grubs."  It  is  these  fat 
little  grubs  the  song-sparrows  are  after  when  you 
see  them  scratching  and  pecking  away  in  the 
shade  after  you  have  irrigated  the  orchard.  If 
you  watch  closely,  you  will  see  the  birds  pick  up 
more  than  a  mouthful,  and  the  little  insects  will 
drop  out  of  the  corners  of  the  birds'  beaks. 


58  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

Song-sparrows  seem  never  to  know  when  they 
have  a  beakful.  We  have  seen  them  go  on  pick- 
ing up  the  same  grubs  that  have  fallen  out  of 
their  mouths  over  and  over  again.  And  we  laugh, 
as  who  could  help  it! 

Our  song-sparrows  nest  two  or  three  times, 
from  April  to  July.  Then  comes  a  sorry  time  for 
the  old  birds.  They  begin  their  yearly  molt. 
They  seem  to  know  how  droll  they  look,  and  keep 
well  out  of  sight  in  the  bushes.  When  they  ven- 
ture out  for  food,  you  will  notice  how  ragged 
their  feathers  are,  and  how  half-dressed  they  ap- 
pear. Still,  they  chirp  cheerily,  as  if  sure  of  a 
new  suit  in  good  time.  And  when  the  new  suit 
is  all  done,  some  time  in  September,  it  will  be  all 
dots  and  dashes,  like  buttons,  and  lace  edging, 
and  brown  and  white  ribbons. 

The  song-sparrow  seems  fitted  to  be  a  school- 
house-bird,  because  it  is  always  on  hand  when 
school  keeps.  A  pile  of  tree-cuttings  under  the 
window,  and  branches  of  any  bush  or  shrub, 
would  make  just  the  shelter  they  love.  The  spar- 
rows do  not  slip  under  boards  or  behind  boxes 
and  barrels  when  they  are  startled.  They  like 
partial  shelter  like  the  twigs,  so  they  may  see  out 
between  the  sticks  and  foliage  and  look  around 
without  being  seen  themselves.  You  might  try 


THE    SONG-SPARROW.  59 

sowing  lettuce-seeds  in  the  loosened  ground  be- 
fore you  place  the  pile  of  twigs.  You  could 
sprinkle  through  the  boughs  in  summer  and  keep 
the  place  moist,  so  the  lettuce  could  grow.  A 
row  of  children  could  sit  around  this  "sparrow's 
corner"  and  study  their  ways. 


THE    BELTED    KINGFISHER. 


HIS  beautiful  bird  is  called  the 
king  of  the  fishers.  It  is  resi- 
dent in  all  California.  It  may 
be  seen  around  inland  streams, 
especially  mill-races,  and  along 
the  sea-coast.  Its  head  seems  to  be 
much  too  large  for  its  body.  But 
the  kingfisher  has  use  for  its  head, 
as  the  woodpecker  has  good  use  for  his.  The 
woodpecker's  head  is  his  hammer  for  driving  his 
beak  into  the  trees.  The  head  of  the  kingfisher 
drives  its  beak  into  the  water  for  the  fish  upon 
which  it  lives.  The  bill  of  the  kingfisher  is  its 
pike,  with  which  it  captures  its  food.  It  is  the 
bird's  spear,  and  it  goes  straight  to  the  unlucky 
fish  sporting  in  the  water.  And  the  kingfisher's 

eye  is  as  sharp  and  strong 
as  its  beak,  for  it  is  able 
to  see  its  food  through 
dark  and  muddy  water, 
as  well  as  in  the  clearest 


REFERENCE   TOPICS. 


disgorge- 


Reason      for 

ment. 

Habits  of  fishes. 
Cruelty  of  stringing  flsh 

alive. 


streams. 

60 


THE    BELTED    KINGFISHER.  61 

In  no  other  way  can  the  kingfisher  get  a  living 
but  by  fishing.  You  may  be  out  for  a  walk,  with 
eyes  and  ears  open,  and  you  will  see  the  fisher 
sitting  silently  on  the  limb  of  a  tree  by  the  edge 
of  the  water.  He  does  not  stir  a  feather.  He 


THE    BELTED    KINGFISHER. 


scarcely  blinks  his  eyes.  He  might  be  a  stuffed 
bird  set  up  on  a  bough.  Suddenly,  quicker  than 
your  eye  can  follow,  he  darts  straight  into  the 
water,  head  foremost. 

Now,  if  the  king  had  a  head  like  a  thrush  or  a 
warbler,  he  would  make  a  failure  at  fishing.  But 
his  strong,  thick  skull  follows  the  tip  of  his  beak 


62  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

wherever  it  goes,  and  when  next  you  see  him,  a 
fish  lies  crosswise  in  his  mouth.  The  fish  strug- 
gles to  get  away.  It  has  neither  beak  nor  claws 
to  fight  its  own  battles,  and  can  only  squirm  help- 
lessly. You  are  sorry  for  the  fish,  who  has  its 
own  good  times,  free  in  the  water;  but  you  know 
the  little  blue  king  is  very  hungry,  and  must  be 
excused  for  getting  his  dinner  in  his  own  fashion. 

Straight  to  the  tree  he  just  left  flies  the  king, 
and  you  notice  the  water  runs  off  from  his  sleek 
head  and  back.  Never  a  bit  wet  gets  the  king- 
fisher. His  plumage  is  thick  and  well  oiled. 

Once  on  the  tree,  the  fisherman  beats  his  fish 
against  a  branch,  as  the  phoebe-bird  and  the 
mocker  beat  the  grasshopper  and  the  butterfly. 
We  call  it  a  "  natural  death "  for  both  fish  and 
insect.  The  king  is  certainly  a  more  merciful 
fisher  than  the  man  who  strings  his  fish  and  car- 
ries them  about  until  they  die  by  slow  degrees. 
When  the  fish  lies  limp  across  his  beak,  the  fisher 
gives  it  a  toss,  and  down  it  goes,  whole,  by  way  of 
the  bird's  thick  neck.  Later,  the  bones  will  come 
up  in  hard  little  pellets. 

A  kingfisher  always  manages  to  dive  straight 
down  into  the  water,  never  at  a  slant.  He  may 
be  obliged  to  fly  out  a  little  way  to  do  so,  but  he 
comes  down  straight.  We  suppose  this  is  to  avoid 


THE    BELTED    KINGFISHER.  63 

making  a  shadow  on  the  water.  Fish  are  quick 
and  shy.  They  are  afraid  of  a  shadow.  You 
may  see  this  for  yourselves  by  walking  along  the 
bank  where  minnows  are  sunning  themselves  in 
the  clear  water.  If  you  are  between  the  fish  and 
the  sun,  your  shadow  will  frighten  the  fish,  and 
they  will  scurry  under  the  nearest  rock.  If  you 
approach  from  the  other  bank,  you  do  not  disturb 
them. 

If  the  kingfisher  is  a  king,  then  his  wife  must 
be  a  queen,  though  she  goes  by  her  mate's  name, 
just  as  a  pair  of  phoebes  are  each  known  by  the 
name  of  Phoebe. 

Both  birds  take  a  hand  at  the  nest-building,  or 
rather  at  the  nest-digging.  They  select  a  suit- 
able place  on  the  face  of  a  clay  or  sandy  bank, 
and  dig  with  their  beaks.  Here  they  make  good 
use  of  their  large,  heavy  heads  again.  As  they 
dig,  they  push  the  loose  earth  out  and  down  be- 
hind them.  If  you  have  the  good  luck  to  come 
011  a  pair  at  work,  you  will  see  the  dirt  rattling 
down  the  cliff  side.  One  bird  digs  until  it  is 
tired,  and  then  its  mate  lends  a  hand,  or  we 
should  say  a  beak.  In  this  way  a  tunnel  six  or 
eight  feet  long  is  made  in  the  earth  wall.  Just 
how  long,  it  is  hard  to  say.  It  is  safe  to  say  it  is 
some  longer  than  a  boy's  arm,  as  the  boy  will  find 


64  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

out  should  he  attempt  to  measure  it  with  the  in- 
tention to  steal  the  eggs  or  young  ones.  The  boy 
will  hardly  reach  the  nest-chamber,  but  he  will 
go  far  enough  to  wish  he  had  n't  tried.  King- 
fishers often  line  their  tunnels  and  the  nest- 
chambers  with  bones  and  things  they  have  swal- 
lowed, which  their  stomachs  have  no  use  for.  Of 
course,  these  things  decay,  and  make  a  very  un- 
pleasant odor,  as  well  as  disagreeable  stuff  to 
handle. 

The  kingfishers  dig  their  tunnels  sloping  up- 
ward, so  the  rain  from  above,  soaking  down 
through  the  soil,  will  run  out  and  not  drown  the 
young  birds.  When  the  tunnel  is  long  enough, 
the  mother  lays  as  many  eggs  as  the  space  at  the 
end  will  hold,  —  there  may  be  six  or  eight,  — and 
here  the  birdlings  are  hatched,  quite  naked. 
They  are  fed  on  the  best  fish  to  be  caught,  and 
grow  rapidly.  In  a  few  days  they  get  their  first 
coats  of  feathers.  Most  swimming  and  diving 
birds  have  a  coat  of  down  all  their  lives,  under 
their  outside  feathers.  It  keeps  them  warm. 

Kingfishers  are  said  to  keep  the  same  nesting- 
place  for  years,  where  they  are  not  disturbed.  Of 
course,  they  must  have  a  house-cleaning  at  times, 
else  the  tunnels  would  get  filled  with  litter.  As 
to  this,  we  need  not  bother  ourselves,  for  the  king- 
fishers know  their  own  business. 


THE    BELTED    KINGFISHER.  65 

Should  the  young  birds  be  taken  from  the  dark, 
snug  nest,  they  will  creep  into  any  hole,  as  the 
baby  woodpeckers  do,  —  up  your  sleeve,  into  your 
shoes,  under  a  board,  or  into  a  crack.  However, 
it  is  no  easy  matter  to  get  the  young.  The  old 
birds  will  tumble  along  the  ground,  and  make  be- 
lieve they  are  drowning  in  the  edge  of  the  water, 
until  they  have  taken  you  far  from  the  nest,  when 
they  will  suddenly  fly  away  with  that  loud,  rat- 
tling scream  of  theirs.  This  loud  scream  is  the 
only  song  of  the  kingfishers,  even  in  their  court- 
ing days.  They  probably  think  it  is  musical. 

They  are  said  to  be  fond  of  slow,  solemn  music. 
Sailors  make  it  for  them,  the  birds  sitting  in  the 
ship's  rigging,  looking  gravely  down  on  the  deck 
and  listening.  Sailors  and  fishermen  tame  the 
birds  by  tossing  fish  to  them.  The  kingfishers 
return  at  the  same  hour  each  day,  either  to  the 
sea-beach  or  the  boat's  side,  just  as  our  garden- 
birds  return  for  their  meals  to  the  table  we  set  for 
them. 

In  some  parts  of  England,  the  country  people 
have  a  strange  sort  of  weather-cock  in  their  houses. 
They  skin  a  kingfisher  and  stuff  the  skin  with 
spices,  leaving  it  to  dry  in  the  sun.  Then  they 
tie  it  by  its  beak  to  the  rafter  overhead,  in  their 
humble  homes,  so  it  can.  turn  freely  about.  They 

W.S.  R.   VOL.  9  —  5 


DO  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

say  the  breast  of  the  bird  always  turns  to  meet  the 
wind.  Of  course,  any  bird  stuffed  and  dried,  and 
hung  by  its  beak  to  the  rafter,  would  turn  breast 
to  the  wind.  It  is  on  the  same  principle  that 
your  windmill  set  up  on  the  woodshed  turns  face 
to  the  wind. 


THE   CALIFORNIA   JAY. 

VERYBODY  is  acquainted  with 
the  blue  jay,  and  a  jay  of  a  fel- 
low he  is.     When  you  meet  a 
man  that  is  sly,  cunning,  inquis- 
itive about  matters  that  do  not 
concern  him,  that  man  is  called 
a  "jay."     He  is  like  the  blue  jay. 

This  bird  is  neither  shrike,  nor  crow,  nor  wood- 
pecker, and  yet  he  is  like  each  of  them  in  many 
ways.  But  he  is  more  like  himself  than  anybody 
else.  In  spite  of  all  we  shall  have  to  say  against 
him,  we  are  very  fond  of  him.  Let  anybody 
who  lives  on  the  edge  of  the  woods  take  to  study- 
ing these  strange  birds,  and  they  will  get  both 
profit  and  pleasure.  And  the  more  one  finds  out 
about  the  jay,  the  more  will  he  learn  about  some 
other  birds  and  little  crea- 


tureg  REFERENCE   TOPICS. 

The  voice  of   the   blue     Camplngr  °^ 

Methods       of       hunting 

jay  is  often  soft  and  musi-         game. 

Cal,     though     he      has     the       Necessity     for     keeping 

quiet. 

name    of    being  harsh    of  I 


-  - 


V      " 

V      ,:.: 


{   UNIVERSITY  } 

V  OF  / 

THE    CALIFORNIA    JAY.  69 

tone.  The  fact  is,  he  can  be  both  harsh  and  ten- 
der, as  the  mood  strikes  him.  He  may  shriek 
like  a  hawk,  or  whine  like  a  little  hurt  bird.  He 
loves  to  mimic  all  the  other  birds  in  distress,  and 
often  sets  up  quite  a  panic  among  them. 

On  account  of  his  voice,  the  blue  jay  is  not 
liked  by  the  hunters.  The  moment  the  hunter 
comes  in  sight,  blue  jay  gives  the  alarm.  It  is  of 
no  use  for  the  hunter  to  think  he  can  slip  along 
through  the  trees  and  not  be  heard  or  seen.  Jay 
has  a  sharp  eye  and  ear.  He  is  the  policeman, 
and  the  fire-bell,  and  the  signal-whistle,  and  the 
alarm  clock,  and  the  "  call  to  arms."  A  lone  man 
with  a  gun  is  creeping  through  the  brush.  Jay 
gives  a  cry  of  "Look  out  there!  Danger  ahead 
and  all  around!"  Instantly  the  towhees,  and 
road-runners,  and  quail  slip  under  the  bushes  and 
lie  as  still  as  mice;  while  the  finches,  and  wrens, 
and  warblers  seek  the  cover  of  thick-topped  trees. 

No  one  in  sight  but  the  blue  jay,  who  sits  on 
his  tree  and  looks  innocently  at  the  hunter!  Of 
course,  the  hunter  takes  a  good  aim  at  the  telltale, 
but  he  does  n't  hit  him  once  in  a  dozen  times. 
Blue  jay  knows  the  muzzle  of  a  gun  from  the  butt 
of  it,  and  which  way  the  two  point;  and  he  is  up 
and  off  before  the  hunter  can  pull  the  trigger. 
Back  goes  the  disappointed  hunter  to  camp,  with 


70  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

no  bird  for  breakfast,  so  he  sits  down  to  canned 
codfish  or  chipped  beef.  Ten  to  one,  the  jay  is 
there  before  him,  hidden  in  the  tree  above  his 
head,  and  waiting  for  the  crumbs.  Blue  jays  are 
very  fond  of  the  company  of  hunters.  There  are 
scraps  of  food  always  about  the  camp. 

It  is  a  fact  that  when  in  camp  the  average 
hunter  does  not  shoot  at  the  jay.  He  likes  to 
have  the  bird  about  in  the  lonely  woods  for  com- 
pany. These  curious  birds  are  seen  to  slip  under 
the  flap  of  the  tent  and  carry  off  crackers,  or 
meat,  or  cheese.  And  one  jay  was  seen  to  steal 
the  mush  from  the  kettle  while  it  was  cooking, 
nor  did  it  seem  to  burn  its  mouth.  Sometimes 
they  take  things  they  have  no  use  for,  and  hide 
them,  as  if  from  pure  mischief. 

It  may  not  be  all  in  kindness  to  the  birds  that  the 
jay  warns  them  of  an  intruder.  The  fact  is,  he 
likes  to  have  the  smaller  birds  about  him  to  sup- 
ply his  needs.  Jay  likes  eggs,  and  how  could  his 
market  be  supplied  without  the  birds?  No  one 
knows  just  how  many  eggs  the  jay  eats  for  his 
breakfast,  unless  it  be  himself.  Probably  he  de- 
stroys as  many  as  he  eats.  The  helpless  spurred 
towhee  stands  by  and  lifts  its  beautiful  wings  and 
pleads  with  blue  jay  to  leave  "just  one";  but  to 
no  purpose.  When  he  is  done,  he  flies  away, 


THE    CALIFORNIA    JAY.  71 

leaving  the  pretty  fragments  all  over  the  ground. 
You  may  see  them  when  you  are  taking  a  walk  in 
the  woods,  and  wonder  how  they  came  there. 

In  justice  to  blue  jay,  we  should  say  that  he  is 
no  worse  than  the  rest  of  us  who  like  birds'  eggs 
for  breakfast.  The  difference  is,  we  take  eggs 
from  the  nest  of  a  big  tame  bird  we  call  "hen," 
and  cook  them.  Jay  takes  his  eggs  from  smaller 
birds,  and  eats  them  uncooked. 

The  birds  that  have  been  robbed  usually  have 
time  to  make  another  nest,  and  lay  more  eggs  be- 
fore winter;  and  they  have  better  luck,  let  us 
hope.  Most  of  our  birds  do  nest  several  times  in 
a  season  to  make  up  for  losses,  you  see.  Sly  little 
chipmunk  evens  up  matters  with  the  jay  when  he 
comes  across  a  jay's  nest  in  a  tree.  He,  too,  likes 
eggs  for  breakfast. 

When  nesting  season  is  over,  and  there  are  no 
more  eggs  for  eating,  chipmunk,  and  gray  squir- 
rel, and  blue  jay  turn  farmers  for  the  public  good. 
These  three  friends  of  the  Golden  State  plant 
more  seeds  in  a  year  than  a  hundred  men  could 
plant  in  twice  the  time.  And  they  do  not  ask  a 
penny  of  wages  for  their  trouble.  They  simply 
want  a  good  time  when  the  fruit  and  grain  are 
ripe.  It  is  as  if  they  say  to  our  farmers,  "  If  you 
will  let  us  have  some  of  your  crops, — just  our 


72  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

little  share,  you  know,  —  we  will  see  that  the 
mountains  that  were  burned  bare  last  year  are 
all  replanted."  And  they  do  set  to  work  in  good 
earnest. 

Two  blue  jays  have  been  seen  to  dig  holes  and 
plant,  firmly  and  well,  fifty  acorns  and  other  for- 
est nuts  in  less  than  one  hour. 

Blue  jay  watches  from  his  tree  when  chipmunk 
and  squirrel  are  doing  the  planting,  and  as  soon 
as  their  backs  are  turned,  he  scampers  to  the 
place  and  digs  the  seeds  and  nuts  all  up.  Then 
he  plants  them  over  again  to  his  own  liking,  in 
another  place.  In  this  way  do  our  birds  and  lit- 
tle animals  keep  the  forest-ground  plowed  and 
raked  and  planted,  and  we  should  thank  them, 
one  and  all. 

Blue  jay  does  a  good  turn  for  the  farmer  in  eat- 
ing as  many  grasshoppers  as  he  can  stow  away. 
When  he  has  had  his  fill,  he  spends  whole  days 
chugging  more  grasshoppers  into  holes  and  cracks 
for  his  future  use.  We  suppose  it  is  for  his  future 
use!  But  it  is  doubtful  if  he  ever  see  his  savings 
again.  It  is  more  from  his  natural  love  of  hiding 
things,  that  he  stores  away  anything.  Surely,  the 
nuts  and  seeds  planted  by  him  are  never  half 
eaten. 

True,  he  might  have  need  of  them,  were  there 


THE    CALIFORNIA    JAY.  73 

long  seasons  in  California  when  food  is  scarce. 
But  our  wild  birds  may  always  find  enough  in 
their  travels, —  if  not  in  one  place,  in  another.  If 
there  are  no  seeds  on  the  trees,  there  are  buds. 
And  buds  are  as  good  as  seeds  to  the  birds. 


AUDUBON'S   WARBLER. 


OMETIMES  this  beautiful  bird  is 
called  the  Western  yellowrump, 
on  account  of  the  bright  yellow 
patch  just  above  the  tail.  You 
will  notice  it  when  the  bird 
is  flying.  Like  many  another 
songster,  Audubon's  warbler 
must  be  observed  both  in  flight  and  at  rest,  would 
you  be  certain  as  to  its  true  colors.-  And  the  time 
of  year  makes  a  little  difference.  In  the  spring, 
the  yellows  and  blacks  are  clearer  and  brighter  in 
the  male.  It  is  one  of  the  largest  of  all  the  war- 
bler family,  and  we  have  it  everywhere  in  Califor- 
nia in  winter-time. 

It  is  fearless,  coining  and  going  with  its  cheer- 
ful chirp,  making  the 
dullest  day  full  of  sun- 
beams. It  is  up  before 
you,  and  while  you  are  at 
breakfast,  looks  for  its  own 
meal  on  the  wire  screen 
outside  your  window. 


REFERENCE   TOPICS. 
Hibernation  of  insects. 
Scale    insects    on   fruit- 
trees. 

Spraying  and  poisons. 
Lady-bugs. 
Mallow  "clieeses/' 


75 


76  WESTERN    SERIES    OP    READERS. 

Yesterday  it  was  wanner,  and  the  house-flies 
thought  spring  had  come,  and  they  forgot  to  go 
to  bed  in  the  woodshed  or  barn  loft.  So  the  war- 
blers catch  them  napping  on  a  cold  morning  on 
the  house-screens.  The  flies  are  so  chilled,  they 
do  not  feel  the  cold  nor  the  snap  of  the  bird's 
beaks. 

This  very  morning,  a  couple  of  warblers  are 
snatching  flies  from  the  windows,  holding  to  the 
wire  with  one  foot,  while  they  stop  to  look  about 
them.  Bang  they  go  to  another  wire  screen! 
We  sometimes  leave  the  window  up  in  the  after- 
noon on  purpose  for  the  flies  to  feel  the  warmth 
from  the  inside.  So  we  tempt  them  to  remain  all 
night.  Warblers  cannot  live  without  meat. 

People  are  often  puzzled  when  they  see  the 
warblers  flying  against  the  screens.  We  are 
often  asked,  "What  is  the  name  of  those  little 
birds  that  try  so  hard  to  get  in  the  window  every 
morning?  " 

Sometimes  our  cold  spell  lasts  a  long  while, 
and  the  flies  are  numb  in  their  hiding-places. 
Then  warbler  has  his  wits  about  him,  and  shows 
you  what  a  good  hunter  he  is.  There  are  loose 
shingles  on  the  roofs,  and  shrunken  timbers 
about  the  gables.  Here  is  just  where  spiders,  and 
flies,  and  moths  are  hiding  themselves,  intending 


77 

to  come  out  when  the  weather  gets  warmer.  And 
there  are  eggs  too,  —  spiders'  eggs,  done  up  in 
nice  packages,  waiting  for  the  warm  days  of 
spring  to  hatch  them  out.  Warbler  darts  along, 
at  home  always  on  his  clinging  toes,  and  peeps 
into  every  secret  nook,  pecking  with  his  sharp 
beak,  and  bringing  out  the  hideaways  against 
their  will. 

The  tin  spouting  under  the  eaves  is  his  great- 
est delight.  Leaves,  and  summer  dust,  and  litter 
from  everywhere  have  blown  into  the  roof-gut- 
ters, and  have  not  yet  been  washed  out  by  the 
rains.  Indeed,  no  rain  is  able  to  wash  them 
quite  away;  it  simply  packs  the  litter  into  a  nice 
warm  bed  for  insects  that  like  to  be  covered  up 
this  way.  Nature  is  very  kind  and  motherly! 
She  covers  up  her  children.  Warbler,  thinking 
only  of  his  appetite,  goes  along,  now  on  foot  and 
now  on  wing,  arid  chirps  while  he  finds  out 
things. 

When  the  eaves,  and  spouting,  and  window- 
screens  have  been  inquired  into,  away  goes  the 
investigator  to  the  orchard.  Of  course  we  left 
those  yellow  persimmons  and  rosy  apples  on  the 
top  boughs  on  purpose  for  the  birds.  Warbler 
spies  them,  and  clings  in  his  usual  fashion,  with 
one  set  of  toes,  while  he  looks  at  the  landscape 


78  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

around  him.  He  bites  again  and  again,  nor  does 
the  last  taste  pucker  his  mouth.  He  knows  better 
than  to  take  puckery  persimmon  rind.  To  be 
sure,  he  did  tear  off  a  bit  at  first,  but  if  you  were 
watching,  you  would  see  him  toss  it  away,  and 
peck  out  the  soft  ripe  inner  part,  exactly  as  you 
do  yourself.  Birds  do  not  eat  fruit  rinds.  Their 
beaks  are  made  on  purpose  to  tear  holes  in  tough 
skins,  as  well  as  to  crack  seeds  and  hard-shelled 
beetles. 

You  sometimes  wonder  why  the  birds  do  not 
finish  eating  a  fig  or  a  peach  or  a  persimmon  be- 
fore they  bite  another.  The  truth  is,  they  do  eat 
their  fill  at  first  and  fly  away.  No  sooner  are 
their  backs  turned,  than  along  come  the  honey- 
bees, who  fly  in  California  the  whole  year.  Now, 
the  bee  cannot  tear  open  the  skin  of  any  fruit. 
Its  tongue  is  made  to  sip  with,  not  to  dig  or  bite. 
So  the  bees  smell  the  juice  of  the  fruit  the  birds 
have  left,  and  take  possession,  sipping  all  around 
the  edges,  as  you  may  see.  When  the  birds  re- 
turn to  the  tree,  they  pick  a  fresh  fruit,  and  in  a 
moment  they  leave  that  one  for  the  bees.  You 
will  not  see  birds  and  bees  eating  the  same  peach 
or  fig  at  the  same  time. 

When  warbler  is  done  with  his  persimmon,  he 
flies  to  the  alfalfa-patch  and  swings  on  the  winter 


AUDUBON'S  WARBLER.  79 

seed-sterns.  The  weeds  have  grown  since  last 
fall's  mowing,  and  gone  to  nothing  but  wrinkles 
and  empty  seed-pods.  The  seed-pods  are  gaping 
open,  making  snug  little  hiding-places  for  insects. 

Warbler  turns  somersaults,  pecking  into  these 
tiny  rifts  and  wrinkles  for  the  insects. 

Then  you  may  catch  him  eating  the  belated 
"cheeses"  of  the  mallow  which  every  Californian 
child  has  tasted  for  himself.  From  the  cheeses 
he  goes  to  the  banana  stalks.  The  wilted  edges 
of  last  year's  leaves  are  keeping  insects  warm,  and 
he  hunts  them  out.  He  hunts  in  the  narrow 
leaves  of  the  carnations  for  lice  folk.  And  then 
he  flies  to  the  tall  blue-gum  trees  and  makes  a 
supper  on  the  tender  white  stamens  of  the  blos- 
soms. Audubon's  warblers  are  fond  of  sweet  pre- 
serves from  •  our  table.  We  fed  them  many  a 
saucer  of  quince  last  winter,  and  there  is  more  in 
the  cellar  for  this  winter.  Indeed,  it  is  seldom 
that  a  jar  of  preserves  is  opened  at  our  house,  that 
a  good  portion  is  not  set  out  for  the  birds. 

Audubon's  warblers  are  friends  of  the  Cali- 
fornian farmer.  This  very  morning,  we  saw  a 
couple  of  them  take  the  black  scale  from  a  pep- 
per-bough that  hung  over  the  path,  lifting  the 
dark  shells  very  carefully  to  get  at  the  point. 
Under  the  black  shells  or  scales  are  eggs,  and 


80         WESTERN  SERIES  OF  READERS. 

young  insects,  and  old  ones,  all  of  which  are  good 
eating  for  warblers.  We  examined  the  branch 
when  the  birds  had  taken  their  leave,  and  not  a 
single  live  scale  was  left. 

If  the  birds  of  winter  were  better  understood, 
the  ranchers  of  California  would  welcome  them. 
Many  of  the  titmouses,  as  well  as  these  warblers, 
live  occasionally  upon  the  scales  that  infest  the 
orange  trees. 

Audubon's  warblers  are  sometimes  seen  with 
the  blackbirds  on  the  ground  in  corrals  and  barn- 
yards. The  blackbirds  disturb  grubs  and  other 
good  things  which  the  warblers  love  to  get  hold 
of.  In  fact,  the  warblers  are  always  on  the  look- 
out for  things  to  be  disturbed.  An  old  house 
was  being  torn  down.  The  shingles  and  the 
boarding  were  decayed,  and  they  parted  at  the 
touch  of  the  workman's  hammer.  The  hammer 
dropped,  and  the  workman  went  down  the  ladder 
to  get  it.  In  his  short  absence,  as  if  they  had 
been  on  the  watch  for  the  opportunity,  the  war- 
blers took  possession  of  the  torn  roof  and  feasted 
on  insects.  The  man  stood  on  the  lower  rung  of 
the  ladder  and  watched  the  hurried  breakfast. 

Though  their  feet  are  not  formed  for  long 
walks,  these  birds  are  often  on  the  ground; 
always,  however,  with  wings  atilt,  ready  to  snatch 
the  nearest  gnat  in  the  air. 


AUDUBON  S    WARBLER. 


81 


They  are  commonly  gentle  among  themselves; 
but  we  have  seen  them  "scrap"  in  the  early 
morning.  They  would  whirl  on  wing,  grapple, 
and  fall.  Once  on  the  ground,  they  closed  in 
with  beak  and  claw  until  exhausted.  And  there 


YOUNG   YELLOW   WARBLER. 

they  lay,  panting,  limp  on  their  backs,  looidng  as 
angry  as  a  pair  of  little  bantams;  only  bantams 
never  do  turn  over  on  their  backs.  Just  as  we 
were  sure  we  had  them,  away  they  flew  to  the 
cornice,  where  the*y  preened  their  ruffled  coats 
and  looked  as  if  the  climate  did  n't  agree  with 
them. 

We  have  this  beautiful  bird  in  California  from 
September  to  April,  when  it  goes  north  to  nest. 

W.  S.  K.  VOL.  9  —  6 


82  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

It  does  not  fear  to  build  near  homes,  though  it 
frequently  chooses  a  site  far  from  habitations. 
The  nest  is  large  and  firmly  made,  usually  set  on 
the  branch  of  a  tree  six  or  ten  feet  from  the 
ground.  It  is  said  to  be  very  handsome,  with  its 
twigs  and  everlasting-weed,  and  hairs  and  root- 
lets. The  eggs  are  usually  four,  greenish  white, 
with  dots  and  dashes  of  red,  brown,  or  lavender. 
The  old  birds  are  said  to  share  the  habit  of  many 
parent  birds,  in  dragging  themselves  along  the 
ground  and  making  believe  they  are  wounded 
when  the  nest  is  approached.  After  all,  it  may 
be  but  little  loss  to  us  that  these  warblers  do  not 
live  with  us  the  year  round,  as  we  now  have  them 
in  winter,  when  many  other  birds  have  left  us. 
And  they  are  among  the  most  pleasing  of  all  the 
birds.  Their  habits  are  an  interesting  study. 
What  we  owe  to  their  sharp  little  black  beaks  and 
toes,  nobody  can  quite  tell.  Without  these  birds, 
our  best  trees  might  be  ruined  by  the  beetle  folk 
which  live  between  the  bark  and  the  wood,  bur- 
rowing long  tunnels  in  which  to  have  a  good  time 
of  their  own.  Note  how  warbler  runs  up  and 
down,  peeping  under  the  loose  bark,  clinging  to 
dead  little  stems,  and  "  pecking  at  nothing,"  as 
far  as  we  may  see.  But  he  knows  his  own  trade 
full  well,  and  his  ear  is  as  sharp  as  his  eye.  He 


AUDUBON'S  WARBLER.  83 

can  hear  a  beetle  sawing  away  at  its  business  be- 
neath the  tree  bark  as  easily  as  you  hear  a  knock 
on  your  door.  As  to  the  song  of  Audubon's  war- 
bler, it  is  short  and  pleasing,  though  rather  weak. 
Perhaps  the  bird  is  too  eager  to  snatch  flies  in 
midair,  to  quite  finish  any  song  it  begins. 


THE   MOCKING-BIRD. 


HE  MOCKING-BIRD  is  called 
the  prince  of  Californian  birds. 
He  is  rather  lordly,  and  some 
think  him  a  tyrant.  He  scolds 
when  he  has  to,  but  more  to  hear  his 
own  voice  than  to  harm  any  one.  He 
likes  to  "look  cross"  at  the  other  birds  and  see 
them  dodge  into  the  bushes.  He  does  n't  usually 
umean  anything"  by  it;  for  they  come  out  of  their 
hiding-places  and  eat  from  the  same  tree  or  bush 
or  garden-table  with  that  selfsame  mocker  that 
scolded  them. 

As  soon  as  his  little  fit  of  temper  is  over,  away 
flies  the  mocker  to  the 
chimney  top  and  makes 
apologies  in  his  sweetest 
notes  to  all  the  birds  he 
scolded  so.  And  if  a  dog 
or  cat  or  hawk  puts  in  an 
appearance,  he  is  the  first 
to  give  the  alarm,  following 
the  enemy,  without  fear  for 

84 


REFERENCE   TOPICS. 

Cats  as  enemies  of  young 
birds. 

How  cats  catch  their 
prey. 

"Why  lizards  drop  their 
tails  when  caught. 

"  Glass-snakes." 

Horned  toads. 

Climate  as  affecting  dis- 
tribution of  animals. 


THE    MOCKING-BIRD.  85 

his  own  safety.  Dogs  and  cats  sometimes  make 
believe  they  do  not  care  for  the  mocker,  but  really 
they  do  hate  him  more  than  any  bird.  He  is 
more  than  a  match  for  them. 

We  know  of  a  pet  house-cat  whose  back  was 
made  very  sore  by  repeated  attacks  of  the  mock- 
ers whose  nest  was  in  the  vine  above  the  door. 


MOCKING-BIRD. 


If  the  cat  ventured  out  by  daylight,  though  ever 
so  slyly,  the  parent  mockers  flew  at  him  with  such 
cunning  rage,  that  he  sought  the  first  cover  in 
sight.  One  bird  attacked  the  cat  on  one  side, 
while  its  mate  slipped  up  on  the  other  and  gave 
a  pull  at  the  fur.  In  due  time,  the  cat,  with  a 


86  WESTERN    SERIES    OP    READERS. 

very  sore  back,  concluded  it  was  no  match  for  the 
mockers,  and  was  satisfied  to  lick  its  milk  under 
the  kitchen-table  with  just  a  glance  out  of  doors. 

You  will  notice  that  most  dogs  run  in  a  cow- 
ardly fashion  from  a  mocker,  as  if  four  feet  and  a 
wide-open  mouth  were  no  match  for  a  pair  of 
wings  and  a  beak  that  can  close  very  suddenly 
over  a  pinch  of  hair. 

We  have  had  our  own  hair  pulled  many  a  time 
by  the  mockers,  and  it  hurts.  The  birds  have  a 
way  of  slipping  up  from  behind  one,  giving  the 
hair  a  tweak,  and  dodging  out  of  reach.  They 
never  do  attack  an  intruder  from  before. 

Perhaps  it  is  on  account  of  their  watchfulness 
about  the  grounds,  that  other  birds  put  up  with 
so  much  scolding  from  the  mockers.  They  seem 
to  love  their  company,  and  are  sure  to  nest  in  any 
garden  where  the  mockers  live.  The  young  of 
other  birds  are  not  molested  nor  scolded  by  the 
mockers,  even  in  their  Grossest  moods,  and  for 
this  reason,  if  for  no  other,  we  love  them.  To  be 
sure,  if  a  linnet  brings  her  young  ones  to  the 
garden-table  before  mother  mocker  has  fed  her 
own  little  ones  as  much  gingerbread  as  they  can 
swallow,  mocker  says,  "Go  away!"  in  pretty  loud 
tones.  But  she  never  harms  her  neighbors'  chil- 
dren. 


THE    MOCKING-BIRD.  87 

In  the  spring  you  may  track  the  mockers  to 
any  bush  or  tree  in  which  they  are  building  their 
nest.  Not  by  the  print  of  their  feet  in  mud,  by 
any  means,  for  mockers  do  not  walk  in  the  mud, 
nor  have  anything  to  do  with  mud  at  nesting- 
time,  like  the  robins  and  swallows.  We  track  them 
by  the  white  twine  they  drop  from  their  beaks  as 
they  go  to  the  nest.  If  they  get  a  piece  too  long, 
it  tangles  in  the  shrubbery,  and  is  left  there. 
The  mocker's  nest  is  begun  with  sticks  or  coarse 
straws  and  finished  with  twine  or  soft  roots  and 
grasses.  We  place  strings  all  about  for  them  in 
our  garden,  which  they  learn  to  expect.  But  we 
cannot  induce  them  to  take  colored  twine.  They 
will  use  only  white,  just  as  the  towhee  will  use 
only  white  rags.  The  reason  for  this  is  explained 
in  the  chapter  on  the  towhee. 

Two  pairs  of  mockers  have  nested  in  our 
grounds  for  several  years.  They  are  with  us 
summer  and  winter;  in  winter,  because  we  do  not 
forget  to  set  the  garden-table. 

Young  mockers  will  not  remain  in  the  nest 
longer  than  they  can  see  over  the  brim.  They 
climb  out,  and  drop  in  a  helpless  way  to  the 
ground.  Then  they  begin  to  cry,  and  that  tells 
all  the  cats  and  bad  boys  and  the  good  little 
girls  in  the  neighborhood.  The  cats  catch  what 


88 


WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 


they  deserve  if  we  see  them  in  our  garden  ;  as 
for  the  boys,  we  try  to  teach  them  better,  or  take 
up  their  attention  some  wTay  until  the  good  little 


YOUNG    MOCKING-BIRD. 


girls  have  a  chance  to  pick  up  the  crying  young 
birds. 

Young  birds  can  be  trusted  to  the  girls  and 
some  boys.  You  can  place  them  up  in  a  tangled 
shrub,  never  back  in  the  nest,  for  they  will  tum- 
ble right  out  again.  The  best  way  is  to  keep  an 
eye  on  the  little  things  by  day,  and  put  them  out 
of  reach  at  night,  in  your  own  house  perhaps. 

Young  mockers  get  their  feathers  very  early, 
and  are  soon  able  to  keep  out  of  harm's  way. 


THE    MOCKING-BIRD.  89 

However,  more  are  lost  every  year  than  live  to 
grow  up. 

Some  people  grudge  the  mockers  the  berries 
they  eat,  but  we  plant  a  whole  row  on  purpose  for 
them  and  other  birds.  Raspberries  are  good  food 
for  young  birds,  and  a  pair  of  our  mockers  bring 
up  their  children  on  them  every  spring.  It  may 
not  put  money  in  our  pockets  to  plant  a  row  of 
berries  for  the  birds,  but  it  puts  food  in  the  birds' 
mouths  and  makes  a  sociable  time.  One  can  but 
laugh  to  see  the  parent  birds  fly  up  and  bring 
down  the  tip  of  a  swaying  branch  of  berries  and 
hold  it  while  the  little  birds  peck  off  the  fruit. 
While  one  laughs  at  the  birds,  one  may  get  the 
idea  that  money  in  one's  pocket  is  no  better  than 
a  kind  thought  in  one's  mind. 

We  are  well  paid  for  these  little  attentions  to 
the  mocker's  family.  We  are  treated  to  free  con- 
certs almost  every  night  in  the  year.  By  day,  he 
sings,  as  well,  but  he  spends  some  of  his  time 
in  listening  to  the  other  birds,  so  he  may  surprise 
them  with  a  rehearsal  of  their  own  songs  at  mid- 
night. 

The  song  of  the  mocking-bird  is  a  mimic  of  all 
the  sweet  songs  he  hears,  but  he  does  not  forget 
to  go  over  the  droll  sounds  which  have  little 
music  in  them.  The  chickens  and  turkeys  may 


90  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

wake  you  crying  in  the  treetop,  and  you  may 
catch  the  sound  of  a  squeaking  wheelbarrow,  or 
the  postman's  whistle,  or  even  a  young  rooster 
just  learning  his  first  crow.  A  bird  in  our  gar- 
den has  learned  to  mimic  the  graphophone  very 
well,  giving  the  metallic  ring. 

Of  course,  this  nightly  serenade  annoys  ner- 
vous people  who  want  to  sleep,  and  they  say 
harsh  things  about  the  bird,  behind  his  back. 
But  mocker  goes  on  with  his  songs,  just  as  if 
everybody  spoke  well  of  him.  If  he  thinks  about 
the  matter  at  all,  he  may  conclude  that  a  person 
might  as  well  go  on  with  his  duty  and  pleasure 
without  stopping  to  care  what  other  folks  think  of 
him. 

The  food  of  the  mocking-birds  is  mostly  in- 
sects. They  are  expert  fly-catchers,  and  will  take 
a  butterfly  on  the  wing  or  a  grasshopper  on  the 
jump  quicker  than  a  wink.  They  hunt  for  grubs 
under  the  trees,  and  for  fruit  in  the  trees.  They 
get  up  early  in  the  morning  before  our  great, 
striped  Jerusalem  crickets  have  gone  back  into 
their  holes.  It  is  of  no  use  for  cricket  to  turn 
over  on  his  back  when  he  sees  a  mocker  coming 
along;  he  may  strike  out  his  six  legs  and  toes  in 
a  very  savage  manner,  after  the  custom  of  sand- 
crickets,  but  he  cannot  frighten  the  mocker. 


THE    MOCKING-BIRD.  91 

Mocking-birds  are  fond  of  crickets'  claws.  They 
are  also  fond  of  lizards'  tails.  Indeed,  lizards 
grow  several  new  tails  during  the  summer  on 
purpose  for  the  mockers  to  eat.  Lizard  is  chased 
by  a  bird,  and  runs  under  the  nearest  log,  forget- 
ting to  take  his  tail  in  after  him.  The  tip  of  that 
nice  tail  just  sticking  from  under  the  log  is  all 
the  cunning  bird  was  after,  anyway,  and  off  it 
goes  into  its  beak.  Not  that  mocker  pulls  it  off. 
O  no!  The  lizard  lets  go  of  its  tail  when  it  feels 
a  pinch,  as  if  to  say,  "Take  it  if  you  want  it." 
Lizard  does  n't  mind  the  loss,  and  in  the  course 
of  a  month  his  new  tail-tip  will  be  ready  for 
another  supper  for  the  mocker  or  the  robin. 

Our  little  friend  from  San  Diego  writes  that  the 
mockers  watch  for  the  new  milk  to  be  brought  in 
at  night,  arid  he  sets  a  cupful  up  on  a  post  for 
them.  They  drink  it  with  as  much  relish  as  a 
kitten.  We  have  also  fed  them  milk,  but  they 
like  it  best  with  sugar  in  it.  All  the  birds  we 
feed  have  a  "  sweet  tooth."  The  way  to  any  bird's 
heart  is  by  his  little  stomach,  and  any  child  or 
person  may  have  the  mockers  near  the  house  if 
they  will  but  feed  them  well.  To  be  sure,  our 
mocking-birds  are  not  seen  around  San  Francisco 
Bay,  for  reasons  of  their  own,  which  we  do  not 
understand.  Birds  are  much  like  people  who 


92  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

prefer  certain  parts  of  the  country  to  live  in. 
And  they  do  not  always  explain  their  reasons. 
They  leave  many  things  for  us  to  find  out.  Who 
will  find  out  the  reason  why  mocking-birds  do 
not  like  to  live  around  San  Francisco  Bay?  But 
everywhere  in  the  southern  and  interior  parts  of 
the  state  they  are  common. 


THE   AMERICAN   COOT. 


|EW  people  call  this  interesting 
bird  by  its  correct  name.  It 
has  been  dubbed  "mud-hen" 
for  so  long,  that  we  forget  it 
has  another  and  better  name  to 
answer  to.  However,  it  seems  to 
have  earned  the  name  for  itself 
by  its  preference  for  muddy  places.  Another 
name  by  which  the  bird  is  known  is  crow-duck. 
It  is  nearly  as  black  as  a  crow  when  seen  in  the 
shadows  of  a  swamp,  and  it  swims  like  a  duck 
when  on  a  pond.  But  you  may  see  the  difference 
between  a  mud-hen  and  a  duck  by  looking  at  the 
feet  of  both.  The  coot  is  not  web-footed  in  the 
same  fashion  as  the  duck  and  the  goose.  Each 
toe  is  separately  webbed.  Little  short  scallops  of 
web  run  around  the  whole  length  of  each  long  toe. 
This  is  sufficient  web  to 
aid  the  bird  in  swimming, 
but  does  not  prevent  its 
being  a  good  walker  as 
well. 


REFERENCE  TOPICS. 
Canvasback  duck. 
Wild  ducks  as  game. 
Feet  of  swimming  birds. 
Other  marsh-birds. 


94  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

Web-footed  birds  cannot 
run  rapidly;  they  "just 
waddle,"  as  you  know  well 
enough  by  watching  the 
ducks  in  your  yard.  But  the 
mud-hen  runs  like  a  partridge, 
and  she  takes  to  her  legs  in 
preference  to  flying  or  swimming,  COOT,  OR  MUD-HEN. 
if  you  surprise  her  in  the  marshes,  where  she 
loves  to  spend  her  time.  The  marsh  is  her 
home,  her  children's  nursery,  her  "native  land." 

On  our  coast,  the  coot  nests  in  April  and  May. 
The  nests  are  usually  floating  rafts  in  the  reeds 
or  on  the  water's  edge. 

Sometimes  large  settlements  of  coots  take  up  a 
low,  boggy  marsh  and  rear  their  families.  The 
bottom  of  the  nest  is  of  reeds  and  sticks,  which 
mother  coot  breaks  with  her  beak  and  lays  criss- 
cross. The  platform  or  bottom  of  the  raft-nest  is 
strong  and  thick.  As  the  work  goes  on,  the  nest 
is  hollowed  into  shape,  and  the  reeds  and  grasses 
are  woven  snugly  together.  Sometimes  a  nest  is 
placed  in  the  protection  of  reeds  or  willow-stems, 
so  that  it  must  remain  in  one  place,  like  any 
bird's  nest.  Sometimes  it  is  placed  on  the  water 
and  moored  or  fastened  to  long  reeds  or  tules 
bent  over.  In  this  case  the  young  coots  are  born 


THE    AMERICAN    COOT.  95 

in  a  house-boat.  "  When  the  wind  blows,  the 
cradle  will  rock,"  and  rise  and  fall,  with  mother 
coot  sitting  calmly  on  her  treasure.  Once  a  nest 
was  seen  to  break  from  its  moorings  and  float  off 
with  mother  mud-hen  still  on  it.  It  was.  as  if  she 
had  no  other  thought  than  to  stay  with  her  chil- 
dren. And  of  children  she  has  aplenty!  She  lays 
as  many  eggs  as  your  own  biddy  hen  lays  in  the 
hay-mow.  The  eggs  are  shaped  like  hen's  eggs, 
but  are  muddy  white,  dotted  or  splashed  with 
brown.  As  soon  as  the  young  are  hatched,  they 
are  ready  for  a  swim,  and  away  they  go  with  the 
mother,  leaving  the  house-boat  to  take  care  of 
itself,  and  to  tell  the  boys  exactly  where  to  find 
next  year's  coots.  The  young  are  very  beautiful 
in  their  thick  coats  of  black  down  penciled  with 
bright  orange.  Their  beaks  are  red,  tipped  with 
black.  They  soon  learn  to  hunt  on  their  own  ac- 
count for  slugs  and  snails,  and  to  catch  little 
skaters  and  water-spiders  in  the  margin  of  the 
marsh.  It  is  this  habit  of  finding  the  most  of 
their  food  in  mud  and  fresh- water  marsh-ground 
that  has  given  the  coot  the  popular  name  of  mud- 
hen.  No  matter  if  it  is  a  rooster,  we  call  it  mud- 
hen,  exactly  as  we  call  the  phcebe-bird  "Phoebe," 
be  it  male  or  female,  old  or  young. 

Should  you  get  very  hungry  out  hunting,  and 


96  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

come  across  a  good  fat  mud-hen,  you  need  not  be 
afraid  to  cook  it  for  supper.  Still,  most  people 
prefer  other  birds  for  eating.  A  hunter  who 
brought  in  a  brace  of  coots  would  wish  they  were 
duck;  though,  at  times,  when  it  eats  mostly 
watercress  and  wild  celery,  a  mud-hen  is  declared 
to  be  "just  as  good  as  canvasback," 


KILLDEER    PLOVER. 


HESE  birds  named  themselves, 
as  many  other  birds  have  done, 
by  their  loud  call  of  "  Killdeer, 
killd  eer !  "  Would  they  keep  still, 
and  not  talk  about  themselves  so 
much,  they  would  escape  many 
a  hunter's  game-bag.  But  "Killdeer,  killdeer!" 
comes  from  all  around,  and  so  the  birds  give  them- 
selves away.  Game-birds  should  learn  a  lesson  of 
the  hunters,  who  do  not  keep  calling  to  one  an- 
other all  the  time. 

This  plove^r  is  fond  of  fresh  water,  and  is  not 
seen  on  the  sea-coast  with  its  cousins,  the  snowy 
plovers.  It  loves  damp  meadows  and  inland  ponds 
and  marshes.  The  killdeer 
has  long,  slender  legs  which 
carry  it  through  the  marsh- 
grass  or  the  alfalfa-fields. 
They  look  very  droll,  as  if 
they  were  "  holding  up 
their  skirts  "  for  fear  of 
wetting  them  in  the  dew. 

w.  S.R.  VOL.  9—7  97 


REFERENCE  TOPICS. 

Feet  and  legs  of  -wading 
birds. 

Precocious  young  of 
some  birds. 

Feigning  lameness  in 
nesting-time. 

Alfalfa  raising  and  cur- 
ing. 


KTLLDEER    PLOVER.  99 

If  you  find  their  feeding-grounds,  and  sit  per- 
fectly still  in  the  early  morning,  you  may  have 
the  killdeer  come  very  close  to  you.  One  could 
watch  them  a  long  while  every  day,  and  not  grow 
tired.  You  will  not  see  them  in  large  flocks,  but 
in  family  groups  or  pairs. 

The  food  of  this  plover  is  small  animals,  such 
as  snails,  and  slugs,  and  water-bugs,  and  worms, 
—  in  fact,  any  little  insect  or  other  animal  that 
lives  in  moist  ground.  They  have  a  queer  way 
of  listening  with  their  beaks  when  the  creatures 
they  wish  to  eat  are  underground.  Little  nerves 
run  down  into  the  tip  of  the  bill,  so  that  it  is  sen- 
sitive. When  a  killdeer  wants  to  find  out  if  a 
worm  is  anywhere  within  hearing,  it  rests  its 
beak  lightly  on  the  ground,  as  if  listening.  It  is 
able  to  follow  the  sound  it  hears,  and  the  beak 
goes  straight  to  the  worm  or  insect. 

If  the  bird  is  uncertain  as  to  any  food  being  in 
the  ground  beneath  her,  she  has  an  original  way 
of  stamping  her  foot  as  hard  as  she  can,  when 
up  comes  the  object  she  is  after.  On  this  ac- 
count, certain  plovers  are  sometimes  called 
"stampers."  Why  any  creature  -comes  up  to  the 
surface  of  the  ground  when  killdeer  stamps  its 
foot,  nobody  knows.  Perhaps  it  is  from  the  wish 
to  be  hospitable,  as  when  a  person  answers  a 
knock  at  the  door. 


100  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

The  nest  of  the  killdeer  is  very  simple.  It  is 
only  a  little  depression  in  the  ground,  like  a  sau- 
cer. 

These  birds  like  old  driftwood  and  shore  rub- 
bish. There  are  many  insects  which  killdeers 
love  to  hunt  in  old  wood  of  any  kind. 

The  eggs  are  three,  creamy  white,  dotted  with 
brown.  The  very  day  they  are  out  of  the  shell, 
the  young  birds  are  ready  for  a  run  along  the 
watercourses  or  the  irrigating-ditches.  They  are 
covered  with  thick  down,  the  color  of  the  ground, 
so  it  is  not  easy  for  a  person  to  catch  sight  of 
them.  If  you  come  near  one  of  them,  it  will 
spread  itself  flat  on  the  ground  and  keep  still. 
Suddenly,  you  may  see  the  old  mother  killdeer  a 
rod  away.  She  seems  to  be  having  a  "fit"  of 
some  sort.  She  flutters  and  drags  her  wings  on 
the  ground,  or  holds  one  wing  above  her  back,  as 
if  in  distress.  She  also  cries  and  pants  as  if 
wounded. 

No  one  can  find  it  in  his  heart  to  harm  a 
wounded  bird,  so,  of  course,  you  will  stoop  to 
"pick  up  the  poor  thing,"  thinking  you  may  be 
"able  to  do  something  for  her"  —  when  off  she 
goes.  Then  you  laugh  at  yourself !  And  you 
wander  back  to  the  place  where  you  first  saw  her, 
and  you  hunt  the  ground  all  over  for  the  young 


KILLDEER    PLOVER.  101 

killdeer  which  you  are  sure  must  be  "  somewhere 
round."  The  best  thing  to  do  is  to  sit  down  and 
keep  as  still  as  a  mouse.  After  a  while  you  may 
see  the  little  bird  spring  up  from  your  very  feet 
and  scamper  off. 

Our  farmers  like  to  have  the  killdeer  live  near- 
by, especially  if  there  be  alfalfa-fields.  After  these 
fields  have  been  irrigated,  these  bird  farm-hands 
attend  to  their  business  of  thinning  out  the  insects 
and  snails.  Why  should  not  killdeer  be  fond  of 
snails,  when  they  are  considered  a  great  dainty  by 
some  of  our  own  people  in  Europe  and  some  parts 
of  America? 

On  account  of  this  mention  of  our  friends  the 
snails,  you  will  probably  take  a  second  look  at  the 
next  one  you  see. 


THE   WESTERN    GULL. 


is  our  common  Calif ornian 
gull,  our  own  familiar  bird,  which 
the  law  says  "  you  shall  not  kill !  " 
just  as  it  says  "you  shall  not  kill 
the  turkey-buzzard." 

The  two  birds  are  similar  in 
one  respect:  they  are  public  bene- 
factors. They  seldom  catch  and  kill  their  own 
food.  Because  it  is  their  business  to  "clean  up 
after  other  folks,"  they  are  protected  at  all  times 
of  the  'year. 

Our  sea-gulls  are  always  on  the  watch  for  a 
"job  in  the  cleaning-up  business."  But  you  must 
not  think  for  a  moment  that  they  are  doing  this 
work  for  our  sakes,  or  because  they  care  a  straw 
whether  or  not  any  place 
looks  tidy.  They  are  think- 
ing of  their  own  hunger, 
and  the  quickest  way  of 
satisfying  it  after  their 
own  fashion.  When  the 
sea  goes  away  from  the 

103 


REFERENCE   TOPICS. 

Scavengers. 
Ocean  breakers. 
Fish-seining. 
Oily  feathers  of  water- 
birds. 
Oil-sacs  and  preening. 


104  WESTERN    SERIES    OP    READERS. 

beach  in  the  morning,  it  always  leaves  its  crumbs 
on  the  shore,  —  little  shell-fish,  and  broken  bits  of 
anything,  including,  now  and  then,  fragments  of 
somebody's  lunch,  tossed  the  evening  before  into 
the  water. 

So,  the  early  morning  is  your  best  time  to 
watch  the  gulls.  Go  and  sit  stock-still  by  a  boat 
or  heap  of  sand,  and  you  will  not  be  noticed  by 
the  birds.  Along  will  come  the  gulls  before  it  is 
broad  daylight,  to  pick  up  their  breakfast.  They 
are  beautiful  and  graceful  on  the  white  sands, 
pecking  as  they  go,  now  and  then  flying  out  into 
the  surf  to  snatch  some  tidbit  that  is  being 
washed  away. 

The  gulls  are  always  spotlessly  clean,  their 
lovely  white  heads  glistening  with  the  sea-water 
bath.  They  like  to  perch  on  the  little  boats  an- 
chored in  the  bay. 

You  toss  them  a  piece  of  bread,  and  they  watch 
for  another.  Gulls  have  learned  that  nobody 
harms  them;  and  they  are  tame,  expecting  food 
of  strangers.  They  are  said  to  be  very  fond  of 
cheese,  and  have  been  known  to  return  day  after 
day  to  a  place  where  they  have  received  this 
choice  morsel. 

Where  farms  come  close  down  to  the  sea,  the 
gulls  are  known  to  follow  the  plow,  and  to  snatch 


THE    WESTERN    GULL.  105 

the  worms  from  the  furrow  close  to  the  plowman's 
heels.  This  is  one  of  the  few  birds  our  farmers 
have  no  dislike  for. 

They  are  not  birds  of  long  flight,  but  always 
may  be  seen  along  shore  and  in  harbors.  They 
love  to  visit  ships  and  dine  with  the  ship's  crew. 
Sailors  are  very  fond  of  them  when  in  port,  and 
entice  the  confiding  birds  as  visitors. 

Gulls  seem  very  fond  of  the  society  of  fisher- 
men, on  account  of  what  their  nets  contain. 
They  watch  for  the  return  of  the  boats  at  day- 
break, walking  impatiently  up  and  down  the 
sand,  and  flying  out  to  meet  them  when  the  boats 
come  in  sight. 

When  the  fishermen  drag  out  their  nets  from 
the  boat's  bottom,  and  begin  to  dress  their  catch 
for  the  markets,  it  is  then  you  should  watch  the 
gulls!  They  will  snatch  food  almost  from  the 
hands  of  the  men,  and  by  the  time  the  fish  is  all 
cleaned,  the  parts  to  be  thrown  away  have  dis- 
appeared. 

We  stood  on  the  beach  at  sunrise  and  tossed 
bits  of  fish  to  the  gulls.  They  had  already  break- 
fasted and  were  sluggish  from  overeating;  but  the 
sight  of  further  supplies  made  them  wish  they 
had  room  for  more. 

One    great,    handsome    bird    came    near    and 


106  WESTERN  SERIES  OF  READERS. 

watched  the  bit  of  fish  as  we  tossed  it  out.  It  fell 
on  the  sand.  The  gull  pushed  it  out  into  the 
water,  but  kept  an.  eye  on  it.  Just  as  it  was 
going  out  with  the  tide,  the  gull  ran  in  and 
brought  it  back.  It  dropped  it  on  the  sand  and 
then  pushed  it  down  so  the  fingers  of  the  tide 
could  just  reach  it.  Then  the  bird  ran  in  after  it 
again.  The  bird  kept  up  this  apparent  sport  for 
a  long  while,  and  others  joined  the  play.  They 
accepted  several  pieces  of  fish  which  we  gave 
them,  and  amused  themselves  until  the  morsels 
were  worn  and  torn  into  little  shreds.  This  sport 
of  the  gulls  was  very  interesting,  and  since  then 
we  have  often  given  them  scraps  of  food  to  play 
with. 

It  is  only  when  the  fishermen  bring  in  their 
night's  catch,  however,  that  gulls  seem  to  have 
more  than  enough  of  anything  to  eat. 

Of  course,  gull-flesh  is  not  very  good  for  eating; 
still,  some  of  the  sea-beach  people  who  live  far 
from  market  do  use  the  birds  for  food,  and  de- 
clare the  meat  "better  than  nothing."  It  has  the 
blending  of  fish-and-flesh  flavor,  not  to  one's 
liking. 

Our  Western  gull  nests  on  the  Santa  Barbara 
and  Farallone  islands,  and  at  Catalina  they  have 
taken  possession  of  a  large  rock  in  the  surf, 


THE    WESTERN    GULL.  107 

which  nobody  else  cares  for.  It  is  called  Gull 
Rock. 

The  eggs  are  three,  placed  on  the  bare  rock  or 
ground.  Parent  gulls  have  a  shrill,  harsh  cry  at 
nesting-time.  This  cry  is  answered  by  a  whine 
from  the  young  ones.  Young  gulls  do  not  get 
their  full  plumage  until  they  are  two  or  three 
years  of  age,  but  are  dusky  brown  all  over.  On 
this  account,  when  you  are  watching  a  number  of 
gulls  on  the  beach,  you  may  think  some  of  them 
are  another  sort  of  bird. 

Notice  how  lightly  the  gulls  swim  on  the  water! 
Almost  the  whole  bird  is  in  sight,  while  many 
other  water-fowl  swim  with  only  the  neck  above 
the  surface.  This  is  because  their  feathers  are 
very  thick  and  the  body  very  small.  Really,  gulls 
are  more  than  half  plumage.  This  makes  them 
so  light  of  weight,  they  sit,  just  touching  the 
water,  riding  in  their  own  boat. 

It  is  a  pretty  sight  to  see  the  gulls  floating 
around  the  pier  close  to  the  bobbing  buoys. 
They  are  watching  for  the  cracker  you  are  eating, 
ready  to  snatch  it  when  you  drop  it;  and  no 
doubt  they  are  watching  the  fish  beneath  them, 
having  a  good  time  of  their  own,  just  out  of  reach 
of  the  gulls,  who  are  no  divers. 

Should  an  honest  old  pelican  happen  along  on 


108  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

its  way  home,  with  a  fish  hanging  out  of  its 
mouth,  and  accidentally  pass  a  gull,  the  gull 
would  most  likely  steal  the  fish.  Old  pelican 
would  have  to  go  fishing  again.  But  that  is  his 
business.  It  is  gull's  business  to  get  fish  wher- 
ever fish  may  be  found  out  of  deep  water. 


DIFFERENT    SPARROWS. 


IHE  fox -sparrow,  the  white- 
crowned  sparrow,  and  the 
golden-crowned  sparrow  are  win- 
ter visitants  in  California.  They 
appear  early  in  October,  and  leave 
us  in  April,  or  earlier. 
1^  The  fox-sparrow  is  so  named 
on  account  of  its  foxy-red  upper 
plumage.  It  is  a  very  beautiful  bird,  and  comes 
now  and  then  to  our  garden-table  with  the  other 
sparrows;  but  it  is  more  shy.  Some  winters  we 
see  but  two  or  three.  It  has  a  shorter  and  stouter 
bill  than  the  other  sparrows,  and  larger,  stronger 
feet.  It  nests  far  north  in  Alaska,  or  in  our  high- 
est mountains.  Its  habits  are  much  like  those  of 
all  its  comrade  sparrows. 
The  song  is  very  sweet, 
and,  once  heard,  will  not 
be  forgotten.  We  never 
see  the  young  birds  of  the 
fox-sparrows  nor  of  the 
crowned  sparrows.  They 

109 


REFERENCE   TOPICS. 

Migration  of  birds. 

Origin  of  English  spar- 
row. 

Introduction  of  animals 
Into  new  countries. 

Rabbits  in  Australia. 


110        WESTERN  SERIES  OF  READERS. 

are  born  and  grow  up  in  the  far  north,  and  are  in 
full  plumage  when  we  first  see  them.  • 

The  golden-crowns  are  not  so  numerous  as  the 
white-crowns,  but  always  we  have  a  few  of  them. 


THE    FOX-SPARROW. 


They  do  not  sing  so  constantly  with  us  as  the 
white-crowns. 

The  fox-sparrow  and  the  golden-crowns  do  not 
appear  in  large  flocks,  as  do  the  white-crowns. 

Of  all  the  winter  sparrows  that  come  to  us,  we 
love  the  white-crowns  best.  Some  autumn  morn- 
ing in  the  garden,  before  the  sun  is  well  out  of 
his  bed,  we  hear  a  sweet  song,  just  five  or  six 


DIFFERENT    SPARROWS. 


Ill 


notes,  and  we  cry,  "The  white-crowns  are  here!" 
But  there  is  only  one.  The  main  flock  is  on  the 
way. 

With  most  of  our  migratory  birds,  single  individ- 


WHITE-CROWNED   SPARROW. 

uals  appear  ahead  of  the  rest,  —  for  what  purpose 
we  do  not  know.  You  will  notice  this  with  the 
sparrows,  and  orioles,  and  bluebirds,  and  robins. 

Perhaps  it  is  two  or  three  days  before  the  first 
flock  of  white-crowns  are  seen.  Then  there  is  a 
sudden,  glad  song  everywhere,  and  you  feel  like 
staying  out  of  school  just  to  look  and  listen.  It 
would  seem  as  if  these  birds  are  glad  the  long 


112  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

journey  is  over  and  they  are  home  again  for  the 
winter. 

This  year  (1902)  the  white-crowns  arrived  in 
southern  California,  September  25th.  The  scout 
who  came  on  ahead  went  straight  to  the  garden- 
table,  as  if  he  knew  he  would  find  it  ready  set. 
And  so  he  did.  We  were  looking  for  him! 
Always  the  white-crowns  are  fearless,  and  may  be 
seen  on  our  door-steps.  If  you  leave  the  door 
open  in  the  morning,  they  will  come  in.  They 
will  look  you  in  the  face  and  sing.  They  are 
said  to  sing  all  night  in  Alaska.  Here,  of  course, 
we  never  hear  their  best  songs. 

The  crowned  sparrows  make  their  nests  in  the 
frosty  grass  in  the  far  north,  a  few  inches  above 
the  eternal  ice  on  the  cold  meadows.  Even  there 
insect  food  is  abundant,  though  the  warm  sun  of 
summer  does  not  thaw  the  ground  many  inches 
beneath  the  surface.  Beetles  and  other  insects 
wake  up  like  their  Eskimo  neighbors,  and  come 
out  to  see  the  daylight.  It  is  then  that  the  spar- 
rows get  them.  Besides  the  insects,  there  are 
fruits  and  seeds  for  sparrow-food.  Last  year's 
cranberries  are  just  thawing  out  of  the  mossy 
meadows  when  the  sparrows  arrive  from  Cali- 
fornia some  time  in  April  or  May.  These  berries 
are  all  the  sweeter  for  their  long  winter  under  the 


DIFFERENT    SPARROWS.  113 

snow.  Sparrows  take  their  fill,  and  no  doubt  get 
their  faces  stained  with  the  red  juices,  just  as  they 
stain  their  yellow  lips  with  the  molasses  we  set 
out  on  the  table  for  them  here. 


YOUNG   CHIPPING    SPARROWS. 


Yes,  we  feed  black  molasses  to  our  sparrows, 
and  it  is  a  droll  sight  to  see  them  try  to  eat  it  at 
first.  They  cannot  pick  it  up  like  crumbs,  nor 
drink  it  like  water.  But  they  soon  learn  how  to 
eat  it  in  their  own  fashion.  It  sticks  to  their 
beaks  and  faces  until  they  have  dipped  their 
heads  in  the  water-dish. 

Sparrows  have  a  way  of  washing  their  faces  after 
meals,  as  any  one  may  see.  Watch  and  see  them 

W.S.  R.   VOL.  9  —  8 


114  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

dip  first  the  beak  and  the  face  and  whole  head  in 
the  water  and  shake  it  off  until  all  the  table  is 
well  sprinkled. 

You  cannot  enjoy  the  winter  sparrows  without 
a  garden -table.  A  schoolhouse  window -shelf 
would  do  for  them,  placed  high  out  of  reach,  but 
in  sight  from  the  inside.  But  there  is  danger  of 
our  turning  the  schoolhouse  into  an  aviary  if  we 
go  on.  Better  place  the  table  in  the  grounds,  and 
respect  the  rights  of  the  birds  to  that  particular 
corner. 

There  is  one  sparrow  that  has  not  yet  come 
farther  south  in  California  than  Fresno.  We  do 
not  want  to  see  him.  Still,  should  he  come,  we 
will  try  to  make  the  best  of  it.  It  will  be  of  no 
use  to  object  to  his  company!  It  will  do  no  good 
to  start  out  to  "kill  him  off!"  When  he  comes, 
he  will  come  to  stay.  That  is  the  English  spar- 
row. 

Scarcely  any  one  had  a  good  word  to  say  for 
the  English  sparrows,  until  it  was  discovered  that 
they  were  fond  of  the  seventeen-year  locusts. 
Then  the  farmers  began  to  praise  them.  Their 
good  appetites  were  talked  about  as  if  they  were 
virtues,  and  the  boys  quit  robbing  their  nests. 
But  the  locusts  were  soon  gone,  and  the  farmers 
have  forgotten  what  they  owe  the  sparrows.  So 
the  birds  are  persecuted  again. 


OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY   j 

V       OF       y 

^^^UJFORN'- 
DIFFERENT    SPARROWS.  115 

It  does  no  good  to  any  one  for  a  person  to 
"hate"  any  bird.  Hate  makes  the  heart  hard, 
and  before  you  know  it,  you  will  be  hating  other 
birds  than  the  English  sparrow.  To  make  the 
best  of  a  bad  bargain,  and  to  turn  the  little  Eng- 
lish sparrow  to  some  account  in  the  world,  let  us 
"eat  him  all  up."  In  this  way  we  should  come 
to  love  him  in  spite  of  ourselves.  But  by  no 
cruel  methods,  mind!  Give  him  a  quick  short  cut 
to  the  Land  of  Nowhere,  and  all  will  be  well.  We 
are  something  like  sparrows  ourselves;  we  think 
we  must  have  our  meat!  And  sparrow,  roasted, 
broiled,  or  stewed,  is  a  dish  for  a  king.  It  is  just 
the  diet  for  sick  people  and  babies.  Little  chil- 
dren who  do  not  take  kindly  to  other  food  thrive 
on  sparrow  broth  and  eggs. 

Sparrow's  eggs!  Why,  you  can  coax  a  sparrow- 
hen  to  lay  right  along,  just  like  any  biddy-hen  in 
the  barn-yard. 

You  must  quit  scaring  the  birds  to  the  high 
roof  gables  and  out-of-reach  places.  Place  straws 
about  the  balconies  and  door  and  window  sills, 
and  watch  what  happens.  The  sparrows  will  take 
to  egg-laying  for  all  summer  long,  and  stay  right 
in  one  place.  You  can  gather  the  eggs  every 
day,  always  leaving  a  nest-egg,  and  the  mother 
bird  will  supply  the  home  market.  You  can 


116  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

easily  see  that  by  this  method  there  will  be  very 
few  young  birds,  and  the  sparrows  will  become 
more  domesticated  year  by  year. 

The  custom  of  driving  them  into  distant  and 
high  places  to  nest  is  all  wrong.  We  had  a  friend 
in  the  East  who  made  a  beautiful  portiere,  or  cur- 
tain, for  her  parlor,  of  English  sparrow's  eggs. 
They  were  blown,  and  strung  on  silk  cord. 

The  children  of  the  city  streets  who  have  so 
little  space  for  home,  and  see  the  dark  side  of 
every-day  life,  could  get  both  profit  and  pleasure 
from  the  sparrows.  City  hospitals  could  convert 
their  high  window-ledges  into  little  farm-yards 
for  the  benefit  and  pleasure  of  the  sick.  One 
could  have  eggs  for  breakfast  by  just  opening  the 
window.  Foundling  hospitals  could  be  supplied 
with  the  most  nourishing  food  for  the  little  or- 
phans. It  would  be  better  for  school  children  to 
see  that  such  provisions  are  made,  than  to  be 
stoning  the  sparrows  for  nothing  but  hate. 

"  Since  man  must  live,  man  must  eat,"  and  we 
may  eat  the  English  sparrows.  But  see  that  we 
do  it  with  a  thought  of  their  good  qualities,  and 
a  regret  that  they  are  not  better  neighbors  to 
other  birds. 


THE   BANK-SWALLOW. 


HE  air  is  their  home,  as  the  water 
is  the  home  of  the  fishes.  True, 
you  may  now  and  then  surprise 
them  in  the  act  of  taking  a  sun- 
bath  on  the  beach;  and  if  you  are 
quick  enough  and  still  enough,  you 
may  see  them  helping  themselves 
to  the  sand-flies  and  hoppers,  and  such  folk,  that 
are  out  for  the  selfsame  purpose  of  taking  a  sun- 
bath.  You  will  not  see  the  swallows  running  after 
these  things,  but  they  snatch  them  while  lying  on 
the  sand.  Excepting  when  taking  this  sun-bath, 
it  is  doubtful  if  the  bank-swallows  are  ever  seen 
011  the  ground. 

The  flight  of  these  birds  of  the  air  is  extremely 
rapid.  They  can  keep  well  abreast  of  a  fast  ex- 
press train;  and  no  won- 
der the  common  people 
used  to  tell  curious  stories 
of  the  way  they  spend  the 
winter.  Not  being  able  to 
see  the  swallows  in  their 

117 


REFERENCE  TOPICS. 
Hibernation  of  animals. 
Why  most  insect-eating 

birds  migrate. 
How     cliffs     and      high 
banks  are  formed. 


118  WESTERN    SERIES    OP    READERS. 

flight,  so  high  and  so  fast,  it  was  told  of  them  that 
they  spent  the  winter  under  the  ice,  at  the  bottom 
of  ponds  and  streams,  with  the  snapping  turtle 
and  the  eels.  Again,  it  was  rumored  that  they 
crept  into  rat-holes  or  away  down  to  the  bottom 
of  hollow  trees,  where  they  hibernated  like  the 
bears,  and  slept  the  winter  away. 

It  is  well  known  now  that  swallows  migrate  to 
a  warmer  clime  at  the  approach  of  winter.  As 
they  travel  they  do  not  stop  for  meals.  They 
feast  upon  such  delicacies  as  come  in  their  airy 
way.  The  beak  of  the  swallow  is  a  scoop  made 
on  purpose  to  catch  flies;  and  so  these  insects, 
that  are  having  a  good  time  in  the  upper  air, 
never  know  what  brings  them  so  suddenly  to  the 
end  of  their  career. 

At  nesting-time  you  may  see  the  bank-swallows 
soaring-above  the  steep  banks,  selecting  a  suitable 
location  for  their  summer  work.  Flying  slowly 
beneath  the  crest  of  the  bank,  they  tap  the  earth 
to  ascertain  the  best  spot  to  commence  in.  Down 
tumble  little  stones  and  sand,  splashing  right 
into  the  surf,  or  dropping  on  the  heads  of  stroll- 
ers along  the  beach.  Supporting  themselves  by 
their  wings,  they  dig  with  their  claws  straight 
into  the  bank,  at  a  slightly  upward  slant,  like  the 
kingfishers.  When  the  tunnel  is  two  or  three 


THE    BANK-SWALLOW.  119 

feet  in  length,  they  make  a  little  chamber  in 
which  to  lay  their  eggs. 

When  a  swallow  is  approaching  its  hole  in  the 
bank,  you  will  notice  it  folds  its  wings  and  darts 
right  in  without  so  much  as  touching  foot  on  its 
own  door-step.  At  the  end  of  the  passageway  in 
the  little  nursery-chamber,  just  out  of  reach  of  a 
boy's  arm,  the  little  swallows  grow,  and  gradually 
learn  to  run  down  the  long  lane  and  peep  out  of 
the  door.  It  is  now  that  the  crow,  the  hungry 
rascal  that  he  is,  is  observed  to  keep  strict  watch. 
Many  a  child  swallow  is  met  at  the  open  door 
with  a  very  tragic  ending  of  its  short  life. 

Perhaps  you  think  the  young  swallows  stand  a 
good  chance  of  tumbling  off  from  their  door-steps 
into  the  river.  But  such  a  catastrophe  never 
occurs.  A  baby  swallow's  wings  are  developed 
very  soon,  and  the  little  bird  is  much  at  home  in 
the  air  on  his  first  flight,  as  any  one  may  see  by 
watching  a  colony  of  nesting-holes,  only  you 
would  have  some  difficulty  in  recognizing  the 
young  from  their  parents,  for  they  look  just  alike. 

The  twittering  of  the  swallows  is  musical, 
though  they  have  no  real  song.  They  are  a  bless- 
ing to  all  mankind,  for  they  never  take  our  fruit 
or  grain,  living  entirely  upon  insect-life,  and  of 
course  taking  many  harmful  species. 


120  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

Once  a  hungry  hunter,  who  had  found  bad  luck 
in  place  of  game,  came  upon  a  colony  of  swallows, 
and  thought  he  would  breakfast  on  swallow  fry, 
or  stew,  or  pie. 

He  shot  a  number,  and  thought  they  looked 
good  eating,  lying  limp  in  his  hand,  suggestive  of 
blackbird  or  sparrow  or  quail  on  toast.  The 
breakfast  smelled  all  right,  cooking  in  the  camp- 
skillet,  and  the  hunter  smacked  his  lips  after  the 
manner  of  hunters  when  they  are  hungry.  Alas! 
at  the  first  mouthful  he  turned  the  contents  of 
the  frying-pan  into  the  fire.  The  taste  of  the 
flesh  resembled  that  of  the  turkey-buzzard,  as 
near  as  his  imagination  could  help  him  out. 
What  else  could  a  person  expect  of  a  bird  which 
eats  only  insects?  As  well  cook  a  crow  or  a  blue 

jay- 


THE   CLIFF-SWALLOW. 


HILE   the  bank-swallow  is  too 
shy  to  be  often  seen  about  our 
homes,  the  cliff-swallow  is  fond 
of  human  company.     It  is  as 
^   %  v*  fond  of  our  large  cities  as  of 

our  country  homes.  It  was 
never  known  to  do  an  injury  to  any  one.  It  is 
the  true  friend  of  our  horses  and  other  stock,  eat- 
ing large  numbers  of  the  flies  that  torture  them. 
And  they  eat,  also,  the  insects  that  sting  our  fruit 
trees.  They  are  kind  and  loving  to  each  other 
and  tenderly  care  for  their  own  family.  If  any  of 
their  folks  are  in  trouble,  they  all  lend  a  hand. 

The  note  of  the  cliff-swallow  is  a  genial  sound, 
pleasant  to  hear  at  nesting-time.  While  they 
are  chatting  as  they  fly,  you  can  hear  their  bills 
snapping  up  the  insects  in  their  way. 

In  the  old  days,  before  we  built  houses  in  every 
part  of  the  land,  the  cliff- 
swallows  made  their  bottle- 
shaped  nests  on  the.  sides 
of  rocks;  but  they  now  pre- 


REFEREXCE    TOPICS. 
How  bricks  are  made. 
Clay-modeling. 


121 


122  WESTERN  SERIES  OF  READERS. 

fer  the  house-eaves  which  we  offer  them.  Some- 
times they  build  under  bridges. 

It  is  a  pretty  sight  when  you  come  upon  the 
swallows  fluttering  above  the  mud-puddles  after  a 
rain,  or  following  the  water-wagon  about  the 
streets  for  the  leakage  that  collects  in  little  un- 
even places  of  the  road.  See  how  they  work  up 
the  mud  into  pellets,  partly  swallowing  as  many 
as  they  can  carry  at  one  load.  By  looking  closely 
at  the  nests,  you  see  they  are  just  a  collection 
of  these  little  pellets  of  dried  mud.  It  is  really 
artistic  skill  in  clay-modeling.  It  is  supposed 
that  the  early  natives  of  our  Western  coast,  watch- 
ing the  swallows  and  phoebes  at  their  nest-build- 
ing, got  the  idea  of  making  mud  into  bricks  and 
so  building  adobe  houses. 

You  will  notice  that  some  of  the  nests  have 
little  balconies  or  verandas  on  the  sides.  Now,  it 
was  supposed  the  birds  made  these  on  purpose 
for  a  resting-place  when  coming  to  the  nest,  or 
for  the  young  to  find  safe  footing  on;  but  we  have 
watched  the  swallows  a  long  time,  and  are  sure 
these  little  verandas  are  never  made  on  purpose. 
As  the  nest  progresses,  now  and  then  a  layer  or 
bunch  of  pellets  weakens  and  falls.  Sometimes 
these  fall  to  the  ground,  and  often  they  only  tip 
over  and  adhere  to  the  rest  of  the  nest  in  that 


THE    CLIFF-SWALLOW.  123 

shape.  The  old  birds  continue  building  above 
the  broken  bits,  and  when  the  nest  is  finished,  it 
has  the  appearance  of  an  adobe  with  porches. 

When  a  colony  of  swallows  has  taken  posses- 
sion of  a  barn-loft,  or  the  side  of  a  barn,  under  the 
eaves,  it  seems  as  though  all  take  a  hand  in  the 
building,  no  particular  pair  at  any  certain  nest. 
But  when  nearly  finished,  a  single  female  takes 
possession  and  lays  her  eggs. 

We  have  not  seen  the  eggs  left  alone  for  a  single 
moment.  When  either  bird  is  off  the  nest,  the 
mate  takes  its  place.  If  a  colony  be  disturbed, 
all  the  birds  fly  anxiously  about,  snapping  their 
beaks  and  begging  to  be  left  in  peace.  The  swal- 
lows took  possession  of  a  phcebe's  nest,  last  year, 
under  our  barn-eaves.  In  this  same  nest  the 
linnets  had -reared  two  broods. 

Some  people  object  to  having  swallows  about 
their  homes,  but  we  love  them.  A  little  fresh 
paint  will  make  the  side  of  a  stable  look  as  good 
as  new,  and  one  can  endure  the  untidy  appear- 
ance for  just  a  few  weeks  for  the  fun  there  is  in 
watching  the  birds.  Nothing  is  more  interest- 
ing on  a  warm  day  than  to  lie  on  one's  back  on 
the  hay-mow  and  watch  the  swallows.  Lacking 
the  hay-mow,  one  can  lie  in  a  hammock  or  on  the 
grass  and  watch  a  colony  on  the  north  side  of  the 


124  WESTERN    SERIES    OP    READERS. 

barn.  The  birds  soon  come  to  know  you  will  not 
harm  them,  and  pay  no  attention  to  you,  even 
though  you  are  very  close  to  them. 

There  is  a  harmless  superstition  among  the 
country  people  in  some  parts  of  the  world,  that 
"  if  you  are  good  to  the  swallows,  the  lightning 
will  never  strike  your  barn." 

A  good  story  is  told  of  a  farmer  who  thought  to 
frighten  the  swallows  away  from  his  barn  by 
hanging  a  dead  owl  to  the  rafter,  where  it  swung 
in  the  wind.  What  should  they  do,  but  place  the 
very  first  pellet  of  mud  they  brought  in  right  on 
the  head  of  the  owl!  And  they  kept  on  with  the 
nest  until  one  egg  was  laid,  when  nest,  egg,  and 
old  bird  swung  in  the  wind.  The  farmer  thought 
it  such  a  curiosity,  that  he  took  the  stuffed  owl 
with  the  nest  on  its  head  and  gave  it  to  a  great 
museum,  so  that  other  people  could  admire  it. 
Then  he  put  a  sea-shell  in  its  place  in  the  barn, 
swinging  it  by  strings  put  through  little  holes  he 
had  drilled  in  the  edges  of  the  shell,  and  tied  it  to 
the  same  rafter.  The  swallows  built  another  nest 
right  in  the  shell  and  brought  out  their  brood. 
What  interesting  things  a  person  can  find  out  who 
loves  the  birds  and  has  the  patience  to  study 
them! 


THE   CEDAR   WAXWING. 


E  is  really  a  waxwing,  wherever 
he  goes,  but  he  has  other 
names.  When  he  is  dining 
on  cherries,  he  is  the  cherry- 
bird.  When  he  is  breakfast- 
ing on  cedar-berries,  he  is  the 
cedar-bird.  The  fact  is,  when 
a  waxwing  is  at  the  farmer's  fruit,  his  wax  tips 
are  forgotten  or  overlooked.  These  wax  tips  are 
a  puzzle  to  men  who  study  birds  all  their  lives. 
They  are  not  wax,  for  they  do  not  melt  in  the  sun 
nor  crack  in  the  frost.  But  they  look  just  like 
wax.  Thin  waxen  tips  are  on  the  wing-quills. 
The  yellow  band  on  the  end  of  the  tail,  and  the 
red  on  the  wings,  distinguish  these  birds  from  all 
others.  No  one  knows  the 
use  of  these  waxen  tips, 
so  we  conclude  they  are 
for  ornament  only.  They 
shine  when  the  bird  is  fly- 
ing, or  when  it  is  atilt  in 
the  trees. 

125 


REFERENCE    TOPICS. 

How    wild    plant    seeds 

are  scattered. 
Pepper  trees. 
How  mistletoe  grows. 
Camels  on  the  desert. 
Birds  injured  by  wires. 


126  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

Unlike  the  orioles,  the  waxwings  always  come 
to  us  in  flocks,  usually  with  the  robins  in  winter. 
They  appear  suddenly  in  the  pepper  trees  or  the 
sycamores.  Pepper-berries  and  mistletoe-berries 
make  a  midwinter  feast  for  the  waxwings.  The 
waxwings  share  the  robins'  ways  of  throwing  up 
the  seeds  after  a  meal  on  these  berries.  Pepper 
trees  are  seen  growing  in  distant  mountain 
washes,  where  never  any  man  planted  the  seeds. 
This  is  the  work  of  the  waxwings. 

The  robins  and  waxwings  seem  firm  friends, 
and  wander  about  together,  as  merry  as  can  be. 
The  real  cause  of  their  friendship  lies  in  the  food 
which  they  share  together.  Their  tastes  are 
similar. 

Waxwings  are  birds  of  long  flight.  There  is  a 
common  belief  that  the  waxwing  gathers  a  supply 
of  food  in  its  lunch-basket  or  crop,  and  carries  it 
on  long  journeys,  digesting  it  at  need,  as  the 
camel  is  known  to  carry  a  supply  of  water  for  its 
desert  journey.  This  may  be  only  a  story,  as  we 
are  not  certain  about  it. 

We  manage  to  have  food  ready  for  the  winter 
birds  in  our  grounds.  If  we  give  the  raspberries 
a  late  summer  watering,  they  will  bear  berries  in 
midwinter,  —  not  a  large  crop,  to  be  sure,  but 
enough  for  the  waxwings.  It  is  great  fun  to  see 


THE    CEDAR    WAXWING.  127 

the  birds  chatter  about  those  berries,  and  bend 
the  canes  to  the  ground,  where  they  hold  them 
until  the  stem  is  robbed  of  all  the  ripe  fruit. 

Always  a  fearless  bird,  the  waxwings  learn  to 
be  very  tame  with  us,  where  they  are  sure  of  kind 
treatment  and  plenty  to  eat.  We  suppose  our 
readers  will  begin  to  think  we  do  little  else  but 
feed  the  birds,  and  you  may  more  than  suspect 
that  we  are  eaten  out  of  house  and  home  by  the 
feathered  visitors.  The  truth  is,  it  takes  only  an 
idle  moment  to  place  food  in  the  way  of  the  birds; 
and  it  does  n't  take  so  very  much  food  as  you 
may  imagine  to  satisfy  all  our  friends.  In  return, 
we  have  song,  and  a  good  many  things  to  think 
about,  —  better  than  idle  thought. 

The  waxwings'  language  is  an  endless  chatter 
about  the  things  they  see  on  their  journeys. 
True,  the  farmers  are  not  particularly  fond  of 
them  or  their  chatter.  Would  they  take  the  time 
to  find  out,  they  would  know  that  the  waxwings 
eat  only  many  harmful  worms,  moths,  and  flies 
during  two  or  three  months  in  the  year.  As  they 
are  always  hungry,  it  takes  a  good  many  cater- 
pillars to  each  meal.  Though,  come  to  think  of 
it,  a  waxwing  does  n't  have  regular  meals.  Most 
of  its  time  seems  to  be  meal-time. 

Probably  our  robins  and  waxwings  nest  in  the 


128  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

same  localities  farther  north.  As  mates,  the  wax- 
wings  are  very  much  attached  to  each  other. 
Once  a  bird  was  taken  captive,  and  its  mate  re- 
fused to  leave  it,  allowing  itself  to  be  caught,  that 
it  might  be  with  the  one  it  loved  so  much.  A 
young  one  fell  from  its  nest  in  a  storm,  and  was 
taken  into  the  house  to  be  cared  for  until  it  should 
recover.  The  parent  birds  fed  it  between  the 
cage-bars,  as  we  have  known  the  mockers  and 
orioles  to  do. 

You  may  know  if  a  waxwing  is  happy  or  miser- 
able by  the  way  it  wears  its  crest.  If  happy  and 
free,  it  lifts  this  beautiful  black  crest,  and  if  in 
confinement  or  otherwise  unhappy,  it  keeps  it 
depressed. 

Waxwings  nest  in  trees  or  bushes.  The  eggs 
are  four  to  six,  slate  or  olive  color  splashed  with 
browns.  The  parent  birds  do  not  tell  a  stranger 
where  the  nest  is  placed,  as  so  many  of  our  birds 
do,  but  are  said  to  keep  very  quiet,  scarely  whis- 
pering to  each  other  during  the  whole  period  of 
nesting. 

We  have  taken  wounded  waxwings  into  the 
house  in  winter  and  nursed  them  until  well  again 
and  able  to  fly  away  with  their  folks.  Waxwings 
fly  swiftly,  and  are  so  busy  admiring  the  country, 
perhaps,  that  they  do  not  see  our  telegraph  wires 


THE    CEDAR    WAXWING.  129 

until  they  fly  straight  against  them.  The  shock 
stuns  them,  and  they  fall.  We  pick  them  up,  and 
by  keeping  them  a  few  days,  they  recover.  Dur- 
ing this  short  time  we  have  had  them  grow  to  be 
very  tame,  taking  food  from  our  hands.  When 
given  their  freedom,  they  send  us  a  parting  glance 
and  are  up  and  away. 

W.  S.  R.  VOL.  9  —  9 


THE    ROAD-RUNNER. 


IS  name  describes  his  character. 
And  he  has  several  other  names, 
which  describe  him  equally  as 
well  as  "  road-runner."  He  is 
called  ground-cuckoo,  chaparral- 
cock,  and  snake-killer.  He  will 
answer  to  either  name  if  you  have  the  luck  to  find 
him  at  home  in  some  desolate  arroyo  through 
which  a  narrow  road  winds  among  the  stones  and 
cacti. 

Probably  the  bird  will  see  you  before  you  catch 
sight  of  it,  and  take  to  its  legs.  You  think  you 
will  catch  up  with  it,  and  you  will  run  at  the  top 
of  your  speed.  As  well  try  to  overtake  an  ostrich. 
Were  you  on  a  good  saddle-horse,  you  would  make 
little  better  pace.  As  it  runs  on  ahead  of  you,  the 

strange  bird  keeps  a  keen 
eye  behind  him.  Nature 
has  left  a  spot  bare  of  feath- 
ers all  around  the  road- 
runner's  eyes  on  purpose 
that  it  may  see  behind  it. 


REFEREXCE    TOPICS. 


How      arroyos 

formed. 
Habits    of   lizards, 

•where  they  live. 
How  ostriches  run. 


and 


130 


THE    ROAD-RUNNER.  131 

If  you  are  close  enough  to  him,  you  will  notice 
that  his  wings  are  very  short  indeed.  What  need 
has  he  of  wings,  with  such  legs?  And  his  feet! 
They  are  large  and  strong  enough  to  run  all  day. 
But  notice  his  tail  particularly.  It  is  very  long. 


L 


THE   ROAD-RUNNER. 


As  the  bird  runs  he  holds  his  tail  straight  out 
behind,  not  touching  the  ground  with  the  tip  of 
it,  very  much  as  his  neighbor  fox  holds  his  brush 
when  he  is  on  the  run.  If  you  stop  suddenly 
and  hide  in  the  bushes,  road-runner  thinks  you 
are  gone  for  good,  and  he  concludes  to  slow  up. 
It  is  now  that  he  makes  use  of  his  long  tail.  Up 
it  goes  like  a  sail  in  the  wind,  and  so,  maybe, 
helps  its  owner  to  come  to  a  sudden  standstill. 


132  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

Road-runner  wears  a  beautiful  crest  on  his 
head,  and  as  he  stands  on  tiptoe  a  few  rods  ahead 
of  you  in  that  desolate  canon  road,  you  think  him 
the  finest  bird  you  have  ever  seen.  You  would 
rather  catch  him  than  get  home  in  time  for 
supper.  But  it  takes  a  genius  to  catch  a  road- 
runner.  They  have  been  caught,  however,  and 
tamed.  In  homes  that  are  built  on  the  road-run- 
ner's border-land,  the  bird  has  been  seen  in 
chicken-houses,  hunting  spiders  among  the  roosts. 
It  eats  like  a  chicken  and  nests  like  a  hen,  and 
lays  nearly  as  many  white  eggs. 

There  is  no  telling  how  many  eggs  a  hen  road- 
runner  does  lay  for  a  setting,  for  in  the  same  nest 
are  found  fresh  eggs  and  young  birds  just  ready 
for  their  first  run.  The  nests  are  coarse,  like 
biddy  hen's,  in  low  bushes  just  above  the  ground. 
What  cares  mother  road-runner  if  a  snake  makes 
up  its  mind  to  pay  her  a  visit,  and  ask  how  it 
fares  with  her  large  family?  She  is  a  match  for 
any  snake,  and  stops  not  to  ask  questions  when 
one  is  in  her  path.  As  for  lizards,  they  are  her 
delight.  She  comes  upon  one  of  these  numerous 
neighbors  of  hers  basking  in  the  sun  on  an  arroyo 
rock  —  and  that  identical  lizard  is  never  seen  any 
more.  The  road-runner's  long,  strong  beak  was 
formed  on  purpose  to  capture  snakes  and  lizards, 


ROAD-RUNNER.  133 

and  to  pry  up  stones  under  which  snails  and  in- 
sects may  be  in  hiding.  But  the  bird  takes  fruit 
as  well  as  meat,  and  frequents  corners  where  the 
wild  grape  grows. 

These  strange  birds  are  growing  more  and  more 
scarce  each  year  as  we  encroach  on  their  hunting- 
grounds;  and  unless  we  teach  them' to  trust  us, 
none  will  be  left  by  and  by.  Perhaps  it  would  be 
well  to  place  some  of  their  eggs  under  our  hens, 
to  hatch  out  with  the  chickens.  They  are.  said  to 
take  kindly  to  the  habits  of  our  domestic  fowls. 
A  few  running  with  our  barn-yard  flocks  on  the 
edge  of  the  mountain  washes  might  induce  the 
wild  road-runners  to  come  and  live  with  us.  As 
they  are  good  layers,  we  might  develop  a  new 
breed  of  fowls!  Only  the  eggs  are  small,  and  the 
birds  themselves  not  pleasant-tasting. 


OUR  WESTERN   WRENS. 


TRANGERS  who  come  to  California 
often  say,  "  Why  don't  you  have 
the  wrens  here?  " 

We  do  have  some  twelve  or 
fifteen  sorts  of  wrens,  all  with 
the  familiar  features  of  the  wren 
family,  —  chunky  little  body, 
stick-up  tails,  stout  long  toes,  slightly  curved  beak. 
But  none  of  our  wrens  has  yet  learned  to  nest 
about  our  homes,  like  the  common  Eastern  wren. 
Strangers  coming  here  look  out  of  their  windows 
or  stand  on  the  balcony,  and  seeing  no  wrens 

about  the  garden,  conclude 
we  do  not  have  this  confid- 
ing little  bird. 

If  one  would  see  our 
Western  wrens,  he  must  go 
to  the  wooded  foothills,  or 
canons,  or  into  the  dreary 
arroyos  and  washes. 

Many  common  birds 
that  now  nest  and  live 

134 


REFERENCE    TOPICS. 

Effects  on  animal  life  of 
cutting  down  forests 
and  cultivating  wild 
lands. 

Structure  of  cactus ; 
reasons  for  spines  and 
dense  cuticle. 

Rattlesnakes,  their  poi- 
son-fangs and  rattles. 

Tule-marshes. 

Eskimo  Igloos. 


OUR    WESTERN    WRENS.  135 

near  human  dwellings  have  learned  to  do  so  more 
from  necessity  than  from  choice.  We  have  culti- 
vated the  meadows  and  hills,  and  cut  down  the 
forests,  and  cleared  out  the  marshes,  until  the  birds 
which  once  lived  in  these  places  were  driven  away. 
They  were  obliged  to  make  our  acquaintance  and 
live  with  us,  or  be  crowded  into  the  sea  or  to  the 
bleak  mountains. 

Our  wrens  have  still  their  native  wilds  in  the 
West,  but  by  and  by,  when  we  have  cultivated  all 
the  land,  they  will,  no  doubt,  come  and  live  with 
us  and  change  their  habits  to  suit.  We  shall 
have  them  in  our  woodsheds  and  balconies,  and 
they  will  accept  the  little  boxes  we  shall  put  up 
for  their  nests.  Now  and  then  we  do  see  some  of 
the  wrens  in  our  garden,  in  winter-time,  searching 
about  the  tree's  and  shrubbery  with  their  cousins 
the  titmice  and  chicadees  and  bush-tits.  It  seems 
as  if  they  are  looking  the  ground  over  to  see  how 
they  will  like  it  when  the  time  comes  for  them  to 
stay.  We  shall  all  be  glad  to  see  them,  with  their 
lively  ways  and  pretty  songs. 

Perhaps  the  most  interesting  wren  we  have 
with  us  all  the  year  round,  in  parts  of  the  South- 
west, is  the  cactus-wren.  It  is  so  named  on  ac- 
count of  its  preference  for  the  dry,  desert-like 
arroyos  and  washes,  where  hardly  any  plant  grows 


136  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

save  the  bristly  cactus.  Here,  with  the  rattle- 
snakes for  companions,  and  plenty  of  tiny  insects 
for  food,  the  cactus-wren  builds  its  nest  and  rears 
its  family.  It  is  well  known  that  rattlesnakes  are 
fond  of  young  birds  before  they  are  out  of  the 
nest.  Of  course,  after  it  is  out  of  the  nest  and  on 
the  wing,  any  bird  is  more  than  a  match  for  a 
snake. 

Snake  sees  the  parent  wrens  flitting  about  the 
brush  after  the  insects,  and  he  thinks  to  himself 
"  There  are  no  trees  for  you  to  build  in,  little  birds; 
I  will  watch  and  see  where  you  put  your  eggs." 
But  the  wrens  trouble  not  themselves  about  snake 
and  his  breakfast.  Nature  has  told  them  just  how 
to  keep  their  young  from  so  sly  an  enemy. 

Some  time  in  March  or  April  you  may  take  a 
walk  out  into  the  mountain  washes  where  the 
cactus  grows,  and  watch  for  the  wrens.  If  you 
keep  still  under  cover  of  a  scrub-oak  or  a  big 
rock,  you  may  see  how  the  work  is  done,  and  how 
mother  wren  manages  to  get  ahead  of  snake. 

The  nesting-material  is  grass  and  slender  sticks 
and  plant  fibers.  These  are  woven  into  a  pouch 
not  unlike  a  bush-tit's  nest  laid  on  its  side.  The 
nest  is  secured  to  the  fork  or  branch  of  the  low 
cactus.  It  is  thickly  lined  with  feathers.  Then 
a  long  passageway  like  the  entrance  to  an  Es- 


OUR    WESTERN    WRENS.  137 

kimo's  igloo  is  made  to  the  nest,  of  the  same  grass 
and  fiber.  Wrens  everywhere  like  shelter  and 
hidden  nooks. 

Snake,  no  doubt,  sees  all  this  work  going  on, 
and  he  basks  in  the  warm  sun  and  thinks  about  it. 
Let  him  try  to  crawl  up  to  poke  his  sly  head  into 
mother  wren's  affairs,  and  he  will  be  sorry  he  at- 
tempted it.  Cactus  thorns  and  stickers  seem  made 
on  purpose  to  keep  snakes  out  of  wrens'  nests. 
And  the  rattlers  find  this  out  sooner  or  later. 

In  this  nice,  warm,  safe  nest,  four  or  five  little 
wrens  are  hatched,  and  grow  up  ready  to  take 
care  of  themselves  before  snake  has  shed  his  skin 
half  a  dozen  times. 

Like  many  of  our  birds,  the  cactus-wren  man- 
ages to  have  the  outside  of  her  nest  of  one  uni- 
form color.  '  We  sometimes  find  them  made  of  a 
delicate  red  weed  that  grows 
all  over  the  barren  hillsides 
and  washes. 

The  Vigors  wren  is 
resident  in  the  West, 
north  and  south.  You 
will  find  it  in  the 
foothills  and  on  the 
brushy  mountain  sides 
in  summer,  where  it  VIGORS  WREN. 


138  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

nests  in  holes  in  trees,  or  in  the  ground.  In  win- 
ter it  comes  down  to  the  valleys  and  mesas.  They 
love  the  vicinity  of  half-decayed  logs  and  thick 
undergrowth,  where  loose  rubbish  makes  a  good 
feeding-ground.  The  eggs  are  five  or  six,  mottled 
white.  They  nest  in  April  and  May. 

The  song  of  the  Vigors  wren  is  very  sweet  and 
varied.  On  this  account  this  bird  is  sometimes 
called  the  mocking-wren.  But  it  is  always  their 
own  songs  they  are  singing.  In  winter-time  they 
are  very  tame,  allowing  one  to  almost  touch  them, 
merely  keeping  at  arm's-length  away.  This  habit 
of  being  so  fearless  in  winter-time  is  shared  by 
many  of  our  wrens  and  titmice.  They  are  intent 
upon  getting  their  food.  This  food  consisting  of 
very  small  insects,  the  bird's  eye  is  supposed  to  be 
adjusted  to  short  focus  to  see  these  insects,  and 
are  not  suited  to  more  distant  and  larger  objects. 

The  Parkman  wren  is  another  of  our  resident 
birds.  But  it  comes  in  sight  more  commonly  in 
summer  than  in  winter.  On  this  account  it  is 
often  called  the  summer  wood-wren.  It  nests  in 
hollow  trees,  anywhere  from  five  to  forty  feet 
above  the  ground.  As  usual  with  the  wrens,  the 
nest  is  built  of  bark  and  fiber  and  grasses,  with 
plenty  of  twigs  for  a  basis,  and  the  lining  is 
thickly  made  of  feathers.  The  nest  is  deep,  with 


OUR    WESTERN    WRENS.  139 

narrow  entrance,  so  that  it  seems  almost  impos- 
sible that  the  old  bird  can  squeeze  herself  into  it. 
Of  course  it  is  not  easy  for  the  little  birds  to 
get  out,  as  they  must,  in  some  cases,  climb  many 
feet.  It  is  supposed  that  the  old  birds  help  the 
young  in  getting  out  into  the  world  when  it  is 
time.  They  may  "boost"  from  behind,  as  the 
bluebirds  are  said  to  do,  or  they  may  build  a 
ladder  or  foot-rest  of  twigs.  If  our  mockers  and 
towhees  and  other  birds  in  the  gardens  would 
make  such  provision  for  keeping  the  young  at 
home  until  they  are  ready  to  fly,  there  would  not 
be  so  many  falling  out  of  the  nest  "  before  they 
are  ripe."  The  eggs  of  the  Parkman  wren  are 
five  to  nine,  of  a  pinkish  white  color.  Dr.  Park- 
man,  for  whom  the  bird  was  named,  found  a  nest 
in  an  old  horse's  skull  that  had  been  placed  on 
top  of  a  fence. 

These  wrens  are  said  to  be  even  now  changing 
their  habits  to  those  of  the  Eastern  house- wren; 
for  they  have  been  known  to  accept  cigar-boxes 
nailed  in  a  tree,  and  may  even  come  to  a  house  or 
barn  in  which  snug  little  holes  offer  attractive 
nesting-places. 

The  wren  family  is  so  large  in  California,  it 
would  take  a  whole  book  to  describe  them  and 
their  ways.  Children  who  care  to  study  birds  for 


140  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

what  pleasure  and  information  they  can  get,  will 
find  the  wrens  very  interesting.  Especially  if 
you  live  in  secluded  spots,  in  the  foothills,  or  near 
marshes,  you  may  have  the  wrens  for  company 
the  year  round.  There  is  the  tule-wren,  which 
loves  the  swampy  regions.  You  may  find  their 
globe-shaped  nests  in  May,  fastened  among  the 
upright  stalks  of  rank  grass  or  tules.  They  love 
to  feed  in  damp  weed-patches.  But  don't  mis- 
take the  wrens  for  their  relatives  the  titmice  and 
warblers. 


THE   SHRIKE,   OR   BUTCHER-BIRD. 


E  have  a  warm  place  in  our 
hearts  for  the  shrike.  He  is 
not  so  cruel  as  most  people 
suppose.  He  is  very  beautiful 
in  shape  and  color.  At  first  glance, 
one  might  take  him  for  the  mocker. 
But  you  can  easily  see  the  difference.  The  throat 
of  the  shrike  and  the  tips  of  all  his  tail-feathers 
are  white.  A  dark  stripe  runs  from  the  corners  of 
his  mouth  through  the  eye  and  back  on  the  neck. 
This  stripe  is  called  a  "black  bridle." 

It  is  not  a  noisy  bird,  though  it  is  known  to 
scream  harshly,  once  in  a  while.  But  it  has  an 
occasional  sweet  song.  It  is  not  seen  often  in  our 
gardens.  It  seems  to  know  that  it  is  dreaded  by 
other  birds,  and  ordinarily 
keeps  well  away  from  them. 
They  have  little  need  to  be 
so  afraid  of  him,  for  he  is 
not  the  butcher  they  take 
him  for.  To  be  sure,  he 
does  eat  up  a  little  bird, 

141 


REFERENCE    TOPICS. 

How  cats  catch  their 
prey. 

Merciful  killing  of  ani- 
mals for  food. 

Animals  that  lay.  up 
stores  for  future  use. 

Insecticides. 


THE    SHRIKE,    OR    BUTCHER-BIRD.  143 

now  and  then,  when  he  can  get  nothing  else;  and 
he  impales  what  he  does  not  eat  on  some  thorn. 
Probably  the  other  birds  have  caught  him  at 
this  naughty  business  a  very  few  times,  and  "  once 
detected,  always  suspected."  They  have  never 
forgiven  him. 

So,  perhaps,  this  butcher  has  come  honestly 
by  his  name.  But  it  is  not  so  very  bad  to  be  a 
butcher !  Let  us  learn  some  lessons  from  his 
merciful  way  of  doing  his  work.  The  shrike  kills 
its  victim  by  a  blow,  or  by  impaling  it  on  a  thorn. 
In  either  case  it  is  a  quick  death.  Sometimes  he 
kills  it  before  hanging  it.  If  he  does  hang  it  on  a 
thorn  before  giving  the  fatal  stroke,  he  impales  it 
by  the  back  of  the  skull  or  neck.  There  is  no 
playing  before  killing,  as  with  the  common  cat. 

Why  the  shrike  hangs  its  prey  on  thorns  or 
weed-stalks  or  barbed-wire  fences,  no  one  knows. 
He  seldom  returns  to  eat  it.  You  may  find  the 
little  ghosts  of  grasshoppers  and  crickets  and  mice 
arid  other  creatures  swinging  in  the  wind  as  dry 
as  a  bone.  Indeed,  they  are  often  nothing  but 
dry  bones  with  just  enough  skin  to  hold  the  bones 
together.  It  is  well  known  that  tree-squirrels, 
and  jays,  and  woodpeckers  do  not  return  and  eat 
all  the  food  they  stow  away  in  secret  places.  Per- 
haps all  these  little  creatures  have  a  vague  idea 


144  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

that  there  may  be  a  famine,  and  they  would  do 
well  to  save  something.  It  is  a  good  idea. 

Butcher-birds  have  been  seen  to  catch  gophers, 
and  they  are  very  partial  to  those  great  Jerusalem 
crickets  which  eat  holes  in  the  farmers'  pota- 
toes. Most  farmers  are  on  friendly  terms  with 
"Butchy."  They  have  an  idea  that  the  bird  eats 
more  or  less  linnets,  and  the  average  farmer  can 
endure  the  company  of  almost  anything  that 
makes  war  on  the  linnets.  The  linnets  could  tell 
him  that  not  three  times  in  a  season  does  Butchy 
molest  a  linnet.  Butchy  prefers  a  lizard  any  day. 
And  it  is  his  greatest  delight  to  chase  butterflies. 
Farmer  sees  Butchy  darting  across  the  garden! 
The  linnets  fly  to  cover,  and  farmer  chuckles. 
Butchy  wasn't  after  the  birds  at  all,  but  that 
great  red-and-black  butterfly  the  farmer  did  not 
see. 

When  once  any  creature  is  picked  up  by  the 
butcher-bird,  it  is  of  no  use  for  it  to  squirm. 
Butchy  is  provided  with  a  pretty  good  set  of  teeth 
for  a  bird.  The  tip  of  the  beak  is  notched. 
These  notches  are  called  "teeth."  They  hold  on 
to  a  gopher,  or  a  lizard,  or  a  beetle  with  a  tight 
grip.  However,  should  the  butcher  seize  a  lizard 
by  the  tip  of  its  tail,  the  bird  would  have  tail,  and 
nothing  <elsea  for  its  breakfast,  as  its  cousin  the 


THE    SHRIKE,    OR    BUTCHER-BIRD.  145 

mocker  has  when  he  seizes  a  lizard.  In  the  case 
of  the  mocker,  he  evidently  wants  nothing  but  the 
tail,  as  he  could  n't  possibly  tear  to  pieces  or 
swallow  a  whole  lizard.  But  the  butcher  wants 
the  whole  lizard,  and  takes  pains  to  catch  it  by 
the  back  of  the  head,  as  you  see  must  be  the  case 
when  you  find  it  stuck  on  a  thorn. 

The  feet  of  the  butcher  are  fitted  for  perching, 
more  than  for  walking;  but  he  is  able  to  stand  on 
the  ground  very  well  while  he  is  getting  good 
hold  of  a  mouse  or  other  animal.  You  will  see 
him  mostly  on  the  top  of  a  tree  or  perched  on  a 
telegraph  wire,  watching.  He  has  a  wonderful 
eye,  arid  is  so  intent  on  the  creature  he  is  looking 
for  in  the  grass  or  bush  below  him,  that  you  may 
come  close  to  him  without  the  butcher  turning 
his  head.  Wait  and  study  him  a  moment!  See 
how  quickly  he  dives  into  the  air  and  down  to  the 
ground,  just  as  the  kingfisher  dives  into  the 
water. 

The  nest  of  the  butcher  is  placed-  in  a  shrub  or 
tree,  in  March  or  April.  It  is  a  very  large,  thick 
nest.  Sticks  and  grass  and  twine  are  so  well 
matted  together  with  little  weed-leaves,  that  you 
might  think  it  partly  of  mud,  like  the  robin's 
nest.  In  southern  California  we  have  found  nests 
made  wholly  of  the  white  wild  sage  matted  thick 

W.S.JR.   VOL.  9— ID 


146  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

and  firm.  Perhaps  the  butcher  mother  chooses 
this  sage  to  keep  the  mites  from  invading  the 
nest.  You  know,  our  birds  must  have  a  serious 
time  with  the  mites  at  nesting  seasons.  If  the 
swallows  and  phoebes  and  linnets  who  raise  their 
broods  two  or  three  times  in  the  same  nest  would 
learn  a  lesson  from  the  butcher-bird  they  would 
do  well.  A  few  pieces  of  wild  sage  or  pennyroyal 
woven  in  with  the  grass  or  mud  would  be  a  pro- 
tection. 

The  eggs  of  the  butcher  are  usually  six,  grayish 
brown  with  darker  markings.  By  this  number  of 
eggs  you  might  conclude  that  butchers  are  very 
numerous  in  the  West.  But  the  truth  is,  they  are 
not  often  seen.  Never  in  flocks!  They  are  soli- 
tary birds,  always  "keeping  still"  on  the  watch, 
like  a  cat  at  a  mouse-hole. 

Of  course,  the  shrikes  are  not  common  in  our 
garden,  for  the  reason,  we  suppose,  that  the  food 
we  provide  for  the  other  birds  is  not  to  Butchy's 
liking.  We  seldom  see  a  shrike  in  our  grounds. 
But  we  have  tracked  him!  We  found  a  little 
mocker  impaled  on  a  cactus  leaf,  the  thorn 
stuck  straight  through  the  skull,  at  the  base  of 
the  brain.  However,  as  we  started  out  with  say- 
ing, we  have  a  warm  place  in  our  hearts  for 
Butchy.  He  is  n't  so  bad  as  he  might  be! 


THE   BROWN    PELICAN. 


STRANGE  bird  is  the  pelican,  and 
quite  worth  one's  while  to  know. 
It  measures  three  feet  from  the 
tip  of  the  beak  to  the  tip  of  the 
tail.  The  tail  does  n't  amount 
to  much,  but  the  wings,  when 
spread,  measure  from  seven  to  nine  feet.  The 
short,  stout  legs  are  set  well  back,  so  it  would 
seem  little  trouble  for  the  great  bird  to  stand  up- 
right like  a  man.  The  beak  is  several  times  as 
long  as  the  head.  On  the  tip  of  the  beak  is  a 
sharp  hook,  which  bends  over  the  lower  mandible 
when  the  beak  is  closed.  This  curious  beak  sug- 
gests a  fish-hook,  and  such  it  really  is.  The  busi- 
ness of  the  pelican  is  to  catch  fish.  That  is  the 
reason  we  find  it  always  along  the  sea-shore. 

Could  the  pelican  sing  like  a  thrush,  and  were 
its  song  in  keeping  with  its  size,  we  should  have 
deep,  grand  music  indeed. 
But  no  thrush  is  the  peli- 
can, and  no  song  does  it 
sing. 


REFERENCE   TOPIC. 

Food-pouches  of  gophers 
and  squirrels. 


147 


148  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

Along  with  his  fish-hook  the  pelican  always  car- 
ries with  him  a  fish-basket.  Nor  was  he  ever 
known  to  forget  it,  and  leave  it  at  home.  This 
fish-basket  might  be  a  traveling-bag  or  a  reticule 
sewed  to  the  under  lip.  The  beak  opens  and 
closes  like  the  clasp-handle  of  a  satchel  or  valise. 
This  pouch,  or  bag,  or  Saratoga  trunk,  or  what- 
ever you  may  call  it,  holds,  when  well  packed, 
several  quarts  or  pounds.  It  is  capable  of  stretch- 
ing almost  indefinitely  when  necessary,  and  col- 
lapsing when  empty. 

The  brown  pelican  plunges  into  the  water  for 
fish,  like  the  kingfisher.  The  birds  carry  the  fish 
in  their  bag  until  it  can  hold  no  more,  when  they 
fly  to  some  convenient  place  on  the  shore,  open 
their  basket  and  take  a  lunch.  When  fishing,  the 
pelican  has  an  odd  way  of  throwing  the  head 
back,  so  the  water  may  run  out  of  the  corners  of 
the  mouth.  It  is  inconvenient  to  carry  as  much 
water  as  fish.  When  a  brown  pelican  is  off  on  a 
fishing  excursion,  it  flies  above  the  water  with  its 
head  turned  to  one  side,  looking  into  the  briny 
deep  with  one  eye,  as  you  have  seen  a  mocking- 
bird or  shrike  do  from  its  perch.  It  makes  a  droll 
picture 

The  basket-throat  of  the  pelican  is  not  unlike 
the  pouch-cheek  of  a  squirrel  or  a  gopher.  Each 


THE    BROWN    PELICAN.  149 

pocket  is  stuffed  full  of  good  things  to  eat.  The 
squirrel  and  the  gopher  take  nuts  or  pansy-roots, 
as  the  case  may  be,  and  off  they  trudge  to  their 
young  ones.  Pelican  takes  nothing  but  fish,  and 
flies  with  it. 

It  is  said  that  a  pelican  never  eats  a  fish  until 
it  has  been  stored  in  its  knapsack  for  some  time. 
When  the  knapsack  is  full,  the  pelican  snatches 
one  more  fish,  and  flies  away  with  it  across  its 
beak. 

The  hawk  sometimes  watches  at  the  fishing- 
places,  and  when  the  pelican  goes  home,  follows 
it.  Suddenly,  hawk  swoops  down  with  a  great 
flourish  of  alarm,  and  frightens  poor  pelican,  so 
that  he  opens  his  mouth  to  scream.  Out  drops 
the  fish,  and  hawk  flies  off  with  it,  no  doubt  laugh- 
ing, if  hawks  do  laugh,  at  the  good  joke.  And 
maybe  he  tells  the  story  to  his  friends  around  the 
camp  at  night. 

The  pelicans  nest  on  many  of  our  Pacific  coast 
islands.  The  nests  are  placed  on  the  ground  in 
the  most  retired  spot,  and  made  of  a  great  mass 
of  seaweed  and  rubbish.  Father  pelican  goes  off 
with  his  fish-basket  to  bring  home  the  provisions, 
while  mother  pelican  is  occupied  with  the  nest 
and  eggs.  There  is  a  legend  that  the  pelican 
mother  feeds  her  young  with  drops  of  blood  from 


150  WESTERN    SERIES    OP    READERS. 

her  own  breast.  This  story  is  as  true  as  legends 
usually  are;  and  you  should  always  take  a  legend 
with  a  pinch  of  salt.  The  truth  is,  the  pelican 
presses  the  food  up  out  of  her  own  full  crop 
with  the  tip  of  her  great  beak.  At  times  a  peli- 
can's beak  is  tipped  with  red,  so  that  a  person 
looking  from  a  distance  would  think  it  a  drop  of 
blood. 

It  looks  as  though  a  pelican  would  meet  with 
some  difficulty  in  preening  and  cleaning  itself 
with  such  a  great,  ungainly  beak  as  it  has  to  work 
with.  But  a  pelican  knows  very  well  how  to  use 
its  feet  to  reach  those  parts  the  beak  is  unable  to 
meet.  Imagine  a  pelican  trying  to  preen  the  back 
of  its  neck  with  its  bill  as  other  birds  do.  What 
a  droll  sight! 

When  pelican  is  annoyed,  it  is  said  to  have  an 
original  way  of  opening  its  beak  wide  and  slap- 
ping it  together.  This  makes  a  great  noise,  and 
may  well  scare  anybody  who  is  easily  frightened. 
The  pouch  collapses  when  the  beak  suddenly 
shuts,  with  a  loud  report,  as  when  a  paper  bag  is 
blown  out  and  then  punched. 

When  a  pelican  has  remained  long  standing  in 
the  edge  of  the  water,  and  feels  cold  and  tired,  it 
has  a  way  of  walking  up  on  shore,  standing 
straight  like  a  man,  and  napping  its  wings  as  a 


THE    BROWN    PELICAN.  151 

person  slaps  his  arms  to  warm  himself.  The 
pelican  has  rather  a  sad  face  when  you  look  right 
into  it.  And  he  has  a  way  of  standing  still  a  long 
while  after  meals,  as  if  drowsy  and  stupid. 

Any  one  with  a  summer  vacation  at  the  sea- 
shore will  find  an  interesting  individual  in  the 
brown  pelican. 


THE    AKKANSA8    GOLDFINCH. 


THE   ARKANSAS    GOLDFINCH. 

'E  often  hear  this  bird  called  the 
"wild  canary."  It  does  resem- 
ble our  caged  canaries  in  size 
and  color  and  song.  It  is  a 
common  bird  about  our  homes 
from  April  to  late  fall,  and  during  this  time  nests, 
now  high,  now  low,  in  trees.  In  winter  we  miss 
the  finches  for  a  while,  on  account  of  their  taking 
trips  off  to  the  seed-fields,  especially  to  the  sun- 
flower-patches on  the  uplands  and  in  the  washes 
of  country  roads.  You  may  see  them  in  large 
flocks,  feeding  upon  the  brown  seeds.  They  will 
wait  for  you  to  approach  them,  when  they  will  rise 
with  a  whirr,  only  to  settle  down  on  the  next 
group  of  stalks.  They  look  like  the  sunflowers, 
yellow  and  dark,  flitting 
and  flirting  about.  They 
seem  very  happy  swinging 
on  the  stems  and  clinging 
with  both  feet  while  they 
peep  under  the  chin  of  the 
bending  flower. 

153 


REFERENCE    TOPICS. 

Where  tame  canaries 
come  from ;  how 
raised  and  taught  to 
sing. 

Sunflowers :  mode  of 
growth  and  structure 
of  seeds. 


154  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

Always  the  sunflowers  are  in  blossom,  and  seed 
at  the  same  time,  and  the  green  of  the  leaves  is 
like  the  green  of  the  canary's  back.  The  gold- 
finch might  properly  be  called  the  sunflower-bird. 

The  black  patch  on  the  top  of  a  male  canary's 
head  makes  one  think  of  a  skullcap  pulled  down 
to  the  brows.  And  this  bird  with  the  black  skull- 
cap is  the  singer  of  the  family.  His  song  is  not 
prolonged,  but  it  is  very  sweet  while  it  lasts, 
though  some  people  think  it  too  plaintive  to 
enjoy.  The  female  has  the  same  plaintive  note, 
especially  at  nesting-time.  It  is  with  the  mother 
canaries  as  with  many  other  female  birds  who  do 
not  make  a  common  practice  of  singing,  —  at 
nesting-time  they  are  heard  to  respond  to  their 
mates  and  to  twitter  or  sing  low  lullabies.  We 
are  able  to  locate  the  nest  by  this  call-note  of  the 
female,  which  she  utters  almost  constantly  while 
sitting. 

The  Arkansas  goldfinch  and  his  wife  are  never 
far  apart.  They  answer  each  other  if  separated 
even  for  a  few  feet,  and  seem  never  to  grow  weary 
of  each  other's  company. 

They  love  our  orange  and  lemon  orchards,  the 
loquat  trees,  the  cypress  hedges,  the  walnut 
groves,  and  especially  low-branching  apple  trees. 
They  build  their  beautiful  nests  in  any  of  these, 


THE    ARKANSAS    GOLDFINCH.  155 

sometimes  as  low  as  your  elbow.  The  nests  are 
very  carefully  made.  The  wall  is  thickly  matted, 
composed  of  plant-down,  fibers  and  lichens,  and 
bits  of  dried  leaves.  The  nest  is  pressed  into 
shape  by  the  mother's  breast,  she  revolving  in- 
side the  cup  until  it  is  perfectly  round.  Then 
she  lines  it  with  horsehairs,  threads,  bits  of 
feathers,  and  spider-web.  When  completed,  the 
nest  is  about  the  size  of  an  after-dinner  teacup. 

We  like  to  tempt  the  goldfinches  to  build  about 
our  grounds;  so  we  place  twine  in  short  lengths 
over  a  twig,  and  horsehairs  and  soft  ravelings 
from  cloth.  We  pinch  bits  of  furze  from  the 
woolen  rugs,  and  fur  from  the  skins  in  the  house, 
and  place  these  in  sight  of  the  birds.  We  tie 
cotton  batting  in  bunches  to  the  bushes,  and 
stick  pampas,  plumes  in  the  hedges. 

We  have  known  the  goldfinches  to  accept  each 
of  these  tempting  offers,  especially  the  pampas 
plumes,  which  they  pull  in  little  tufts  and  scatter 
to  the  wind  as  they  fly.  We  have  tracked  them 
to  the  nest  by  these  little  tufts,  and  by  the  bits  of 
white  cotton  which  they  love  best  of  anything  for 
lining  their  nests,  in  our  grounds.  When  cotton 
is  used,  horsehairs  are  mixed  with  it,  so  the 
young  birds  may  have  something  to  cling  to  with 
their  toes.  With  most  birds,  this  having  strings 


156  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

and  hairs  to  cling  to  is  a  necessary  feature  of  the 
nest-lining. 

In  early  spring-nesting,  it  sometimes  happens 
that  a  storm  of  wind  and  rain  batters  the  nests  of 
the  finches,  and  so  we  protect  them  as  best  we 
can.  All  the  birds  that  live  near  us  have  learned 
to  trust  us,  and  will  often  permit  us  to  shelter 
their  nests  with  cloth  or  big  hats,  or  an  apron  or 
an  umbrella. 

One  time  we  noticed  the  young  ones  were 
growing  so  fast  that  two  of  them  were  crowded 
out  of  the  nest.  This  is  not  uncommon,  as  the 
eggs  are  four  to  five  in  number  and  laid  on  five 
different  days.  You  see,  by  this  arrangement  the 
first  egg  laid  is  hatched  five  days  in  advance  of 
the  last  egg.  There  is  quite  a  difference  between 
a  birdling  five  days  old  and  one  just  out,  as  any 
one  may  see  if  he  be  lucky  enough  to  have  the 
nest  of  a  goldfinch  to  watch. 

Now,  what  should  be  done  with  two  birdlings 
that  sat  straight  up  on  a  twig  near  the  nest  they 
had  just  been  crowded  out  of,  when  a  storm  was 
brewing? 

It  was  easy  enough  for  us  to  place  a  black  cloth 
over  them,  making  a  sort  of  tunnel  of  it,  extend- 
ing well  back  in  the  branches.  The  little  things 
backed  far  up  the  tunnel,  where  they  were  covered 


THE    ARKANSAS    GOLDFINCH.  157 

warm  and  dry;  and  here  they  were  fed  by  the 
parent  birds  all  through  the  storm,  which  lasted 
a  week. 

The  goldfinches  feed  their  young  as  do  the  lin- 
nets and  hummers,  both  parents  lending  a  hand, 
or  rather  a  beak,  at  the  nursing.  Long  after  a 
brood  has  flown  about  the  garden,  they  may  be 
seen  coaxing  for  "  more  porridge,"  in  baby  gold- 
finch voices  already  plaintive. 

Though  the  male  helps  his  mate  in  the  feeding 
of  the  young,  we  have  not  seen  him  assist  in  the 
nest-building.  But  he  does  not  desert  her,  like 
the  humming-bird.  He  flies  constantly  with  her 
to  and  from  the  nest,  just  behind  her,  sometimes 
singing  on  a  low  branch,  as  if  to  encourage  her 
while  she  gathers  material. 

We  often  see  the  two  hopping  along  by  the 
door-step,  picking  up  fiber  and  threads  shaken 
from  the  house-rugs,  the  male  close  at  the  heels  of 
his  mate,  standing  on  tiptoe,  as  if  keeping  watch. 

Besides  the  Arkansas  goldfinch,  which  is  the 
most  familiar  of  the  finches,  we  have  the  willow- 
goldfinch,  seen  mostly  in  the  willow  groves  in  the 
river  bottoms.  We  have  enticed  it  to  our  grounds 
in  late  fall  by  planting  rows  of  tame  sunflowers 
in  time  for  the  seeds  to  ripen  before  the  frost 
comes.  The  willow-goldfinch  is  larger  than  the 


158  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

Arkansas,  and  has  more  black  on  its  wings  and 
tail,  relieved  by  vivid  golden  yellow  on  the  rest  of 
the  body.  It  glistens  in  the  bright  colorings  of 
the  orange  and  lemon  trees  as  if  the  birds 
belonged  to  the  citrus  family. 

We  have  another  member  of  the  finch  family, 
called  the  Lawrence  goldfinch.  It  resembles  the 
Arkansas,  but  the  black  skullcap  extends  down 
over  the  whole  face  like  a  mask.  It  is  sometimes 
called  the  "masked  finch." 


THE   TOWHEES. 


towhees  are  ground-birds. 
You  seldom  see  them  flying 
high  or  sitting  on  trees.  Like 
the  thrashers  and  thrushes, 
they  must  scratch  for  a  living. 
Their  feet  are  formed  on  purpose 
for  their  business.  They  are  large  and  strong,  the 
toes  spreading.  Their  beaks  are  strong  and  stoutly 
made,  adapted  to  turning  over  leaves  and  other 
woodland  litter,  including  the  straw  and  chaff  in 
our  farm-yards. 

You  will  meet  the  spurred  towhee  in  the  foot- 
hills and  the  arroyos,  or  in  any  of  the  retired 
country  places.  They  love  low  undergrowth  and 
shrubbery.  If  you  happen  to  be  out  for  a  Satur- 
day walk,  you  will  hear  a  scratching  in  the  brush, 
or  fallen  boughs,  or  behind  wild  grape-vines,  or 
among  the  ferns  of  a  canon 
bank.  The  scratching  is 
so  loud,  and  plain,  and  con- 
tinued, you  might  mistake 
it  for  that  of  one  of  your 

159 


REFERENCE  TOPICS. 
Irrigation  of  orchards. 
Dry  and  wet  seasons. 

The    principle    of    pro- 
tective coloration. 


160  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

own  biddy  hens.  You  stop  and  listen,  and  then 
move  softly  towards  the  spot.  There  is  the  towhee, 
scratching  with  both  feet  for  insects  in  the  litter! 
The  blackbird  scratches  like  a  hen,  but  the  towhee 
makes  a  quick  hop-scratch  with  both  feet  at  once. 

Towhee  does  n't  mind  your  presence,  provided 
you  stand  perfectly  still ;  and  you  may  find  its 
nest  and  mate  by  observing  the  direction  it  takes 
when  its  beak  is  filled  with  food.  But  you  need 
not  expect  to  see  it  fly  straight  to  its  nest. 
Towhees,  along  with  many  other  birds,  have  a 
way  of  flying  in  an  opposite  direction  a  few  feet 
or  yards,  and  then,  turning  a  sharp  corner,  fly  to 
the  nest.  Our  garden  brown  towhees  often  de- 
ceived us  in  this  way  until  we  came  to  understand 
their  little  tricks. 

In  late  summer-time,  when  the  moisture  has 
dried  out  of  the  hills  and  canons  and  oak  pastures, 
the  spurred  towhees  come  to  our  grounds  to 
scratch  in  the  mulching  under  the  trees. 

Our  custom  of  irrigating  and  then  mulching 
our  trees  in  midsummer  encourages  insect-life  of 
many  sorts,  and  this,  in  turn,  invites  the  birds, 
which  would  never  think  of  visiting  us  on  any 
other  account. 

We  like  to  lie  in  a  hammock  beneath  a  fig  tree 
whose  branches  droop  to  the  ground.  It  is  a 


THE    TOWHEES.  161 

specially  good  place  from  which  to  study  the 
birds.  One  day  last  summer  we  heard  a  scratch- 
ing in  the  leaves  near-by,  and  knew  by  the  vigor- 
ous sound  that  it  came  from  a  spurred  towhee. 
We  had  not  seen  the  bird  in  our  grounds  before. 
So  we  watched,  keeping  perfectly  still.  The  sound 
drew  nearer,  arid  then  right  beneath  us  appeared 
this  towhee,  —  the  very  bird  we  expected. 

Now,  birds  have  a  way  of  looking  a  strange  ob- 
ject in  the  face  without  blinking,  as  if  they  would 
make  sure  of  its  nature!  Spurred  towhee  stared 
at  us  as  if  determined  to  look  us  out  of  counte- 
nance, if  we  were  living  beings.  But,  seeing  we 
did  not  stir,  it  took  our  hammock  and  its  contents 
for  a  fallen  tree,  and  remained  near.  It  flew  into 
the  boughs  of  the  fig  tree,  within  a  few  inches  of 
us,  so  that  we  had  our  best  opportunity  to  admire 
this  beautiful  bird.  There  is  such  a  charm  in 
being  near  a  live  bird  when  it  is  all  animation! 
Its  form  suggests  alertness  and  shy  grace.  And 
its  eye!  O,  you  should  seek  the  haunts  of  wild 
birds,  and  make  yourself  a  tree  or  rock  for  just 
long  enough  to  comprehend  the  beauty  of  a  bird's 
eye! 

The  brown  towhee,  or  brown  robin,  as  you 
sometimes  call  it,  lives  in  our  grounds  the  whole 
year.  It  is  also  found  in  the  foothills  and  low 


r.S.  E.  VOL.  9  —  11 


I  V 


THE    TOWHEES.  163 

lands,  just  anywhere  in  all  our  land  where  there 
is  anything  to  scratch,  or  brush  for  cover.  The 
towhees  love  our  wood-piles,  and  the  tree  trim- 
mings that  are  left  for  a  while  in  the!  orchards. 
And  they  run  about  the  door-steps,  looking  for 
the  contents  of  the  crumb-pan,  which  we  toss  to 
them.  They  would  come  in  and  help  themselves 
out  of  the  cupboard  with  the  children  when  they 
come  home  from  school,  if  they  were  allowed. 
Towhees  and  sparrows  wonder  why  people  on 
this  happy  Coast  are  bound  to  shut  them  out  of 
their  houses  with  those  wire  door  and  window 
screens !  But  we  must  have  our  screens,  you 
know,  so  long  as  house-flies  claim  a  right  to  come 
in  of  cold  evenings.  So,  towhee  takes  up  its  stand 
on  the  steps,  and  sometimes  we  brush  the  birds 
off  suddenly  when  we  open  the  door. 

The  towhee  nests  in  our  grounds,  anywhere 
from  three  or  four  feet  in  a  shrub,  to  ten  or  twenty 
feet  in  a  tree. 

They  begin  their  family  affairs  by  the  first 
week  in  March.  The  first  intimation  we  have 
that  nesting  has  begun  is  the  sight  of  a  brown 
bird  running  across  the  yard  with  a  white  rag  in 
its  beak.  Often  the  rag  chosen  is  too  heavy  to  fly 
with,  and  the  bird  drags  it  along  by  slow  degrees. 
By  hard  work  it  is  able  to  carry  it  to  the  nesting- 


164  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

site,  where  rags  and  twigs  are  placed  alternately 
or  all  mixed  up  for  the  nest  foundation. 

We  do  not  know  why  towhees  are  so  partial  to 
white  rags.  They  will  not  accept  red  or  blue,  nor 
any  color,  save  white.  We  thought  it  would  be  a 
good  idea  to  make  towhee  build  a  Fourth  of  July 
nest;  so  we  furnished  red,  white,  and  blue  strips 
of  cotton  cloth.  She  took  all  of  the  white  ones, 
and  stood  on  the  wheelbarrow  asking  for  more, 
with  her  feathers  all  rumpled  and  her  tail  jerk- 
ing. Then  we  thought  we  would  outwit  her  by 
tying  bits  of  the  red  and  blue  to  the  white  rags. 
She  took  one  or  two  to  the  nest,  but  declined  the 
remainder.  Nor  would  she  touch  them  even  after 
we  refused  her  any  more  white  ones. 

We  were  glad,  however,  that  we  had  coaxed  her 
to  use  two  or  three  of  the  colors,  as  even  so  little 
would  give  the  celebration  tone  to  the  nest. 
When  we  looked  to  see  what  the  effect  would  be, 
we  were  astonished  at  what  she  had  done.  That 
shrewd  little  towhee  had  tucked  the  red  and  blue 
out  of  sight,  inside  the  nest,  so  that  not  a  glint  of 
either  color  appeared  from  without.  Now,  this 
was  a  queer  notion  of  hers,  —  was  it  not? — and 
proves  that  birds  have  an  eye  to  color.  We  can 
account  for  the  towhee's  choice  of  white  in  only 
one  way.  The  nests  are  built  usually  in  thin 


THE    TOWHEES.  165 

shrubbery,  and  are  easily  seen  through  the  foli- 
age. Light  is  white,  never  red  and  blue,  as  it 
shines  in  streaks,  or  glints  through  the  leaves. 
White  rags  in  a  nest  are  not  noticed,  since  they 


YOUMG   TOWHEE. 

are  not  different  in  tint  from  the   rays  of  sun- 
shine. 

It  must  be  from  a  sense  of  self-protection  that 
the  bird  chooses  white.  What  other  reason  are 
you  able  to  give?  Make  it  your  spring  duty  to 
observe  the  brown  towhees  at  their  nest-work, 
and  think  out  the  reason  for  things. 


166  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

Do  not  the  towhee,  and  the  humming-bird,  and 
the  song-sparrow,  and  many  others,  work  on  the 
principle  of  making  the  nest  to  suit  the  color  of 
its  settings? 

We  catch  the  towhees  playing  with  the  white 
rags  we  place  in  sheltered  nooks  for  them,  the 
whole  year  round.  We  have  had  them  to  build 
almost  entire  nests  of  white.  Once  we  stamped 
our  name  on  ever  so  many  bits  of  cloth,  and  left 
them  in  the  birds'  way.  What  happened  you 
may  guess.  Towhees  from  all  around  made  nests 
that  belonged  to  us.  The  neighbors  told  us  their 
towhees  had  our  name  stuck  in  plain  sight  on 
different  nests,  and  wondered  at  the  strange  in- 
cident. We  said  nothing,  but  it  was  understood 
between  us  and  the  towhees.  Once  we  induced  a 
towhee  to  lay  a  shred  of  news-paper  in  her  new 
nest  with  an  advertisement  of  one  of  our  bird- 
books  on  it.  We  watched  her  with  great  satisfac- 
tion while  she  made  it  secure  with  straws  and 
sticks.  When  she  left  the  nest  for  more  material, 
we  slipped  up  to  see  the  effect  of  our  book  review 
on  the  parlor-table,  as  it  were,  of  one  of  the  very 
best  birds  it  treated  of.  Imagine  our  surprise  to 
find  an  advertisement  of  a  certain  kind  of  soap  in 
plain  sight,  and  nothing  else.  It  had  not  oc- 
curred to  us  to  look  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 


THE    TOWHEES.  167 

paper  before  offering  it  to  our  little  friend  to  line 
her  nest  with.  And  there  it  remained  all  sum- 
mer, as  if  towhee  were  purposely  calling  attention 
to  soap,  instead  of  to  our  bird-book. 

The  towhees  are  our  especial  pets,  and  we  see 
to  it  that  they  have  as  much  food  as  they  want 
from  our  table.  Though  they  do  not  sing,  we  are 
familiar  with  their  call-note,  or  chirp,  and  think 
it  musical.  They  have  a  way  of  cracking  their 
bills  or  grinding  them  together  when  on  the 
ground,  making  a  rattling  sound  not  unlike  that 
made  by  a  person  who  is  in  the  habit  of  grinding 
his  teeth  when  asleep. 


THE   BURROWING   OWL. 


HE  little  burrowing  owls  were 
among  the  first  folk  you,  met  011 
your  way  to  the  Pacific  Coast.  After 
crossing  the  Mississippi  River,  you 
spent  half  your  daytime  wratching 
the  little  fellows  and  their  com- 
rades, the  prairie-dogs.  Not  that  these  two  ani- 
mals really  love  each  other,  or  live  in  the  same 
neighborhood  for  the  sake  of  each  other's  com- 
pany. The  burrowing  owls  take  up  with  the 
prairie-dogs  and  the  ground-squirrels  on  account 
of  the  nice  underground  passages  the  latter  make. 
True,  the  owls  are  able  to  make  roadways  in  the 
earth  for  themselves,  in  a  pinch,  but  they  are  lazy 
by  nature,  and  much  prefer  taking  advantage  of 

another  person's  labor. 

The  burrowing  owl  has 
other  names  than  the  one 
so  familiar  in  the  books. 
He  is  the  "  johnnie-owl," 
the  "  billy -owl,"  the 
"cuckoo  owl,"  the  "senti- 

168 


REFERENCE    TOPICS. 


Prairie-dog     towns 
the  Great  Plains. 


ground- 


Burrows      of 
squirrels. 

Eyes   of   twilight    birds 
and  animals. 


THE  BURROWING  OWL. 


THE    BURROWING    OWL. 

nel  owl,"  the  "  how- 
do-you-do  owl,"  and 
whatever  else  you 
have  a  mind  to  call 
him.  Not  that  he 
answers  to  either  of 
his  names :  he  will 
not  so  much  as  turn 
his  head  if  you  shout 
at  the  top  of  your  voice.  You  may  think  him 
sound  asleep,  or  as  deaf  as  a  door-nail,  until  you 
are  sure  you  have  him,  when  lo!  off  he  goes  on 
his  wings,  or  down  the  hole  he  runs  on  his  yellow 
legs. 

Because  its  name  is  "owl"  you  may  think  it  a 
night-bird,  but  you  are  mistaken  there.  Burrow- 
ing owls  seem  to  love  the  warm,  bright  sunshine, 
and  are  able  to  see  by  daylight  nearly  as  well  as 
any  other  bird.  But  they  are  most  active  just  at 
dusk. 

Like  the  young  of  the  kingfisher,  and  the  wood- 
pecker, and  the  bank-swallow,  young  burrowing 
owls  have  no  use  for  eyes  so  long  as  they  are  in 
the  dark  nurseries. 

When  they  are  quite  well  developed,  and  you 
would  think  them  old  enough  to  go  out  into  the 
world  on  their  own  account,  they  may  be  seen 


170  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

peeping  from  their  doorways  in  the  early  morn- 
ing, backing  down  out  of  the  light  as  soon  as  the 
sunshine  strikes  them. 

From  a  distance  you  could  n't  tell  if  it  be  a 
prairie-dog  or  ground-squirrel  or  burrowing  owl 
that  is  sitting  upright  on  a  little  mound  of  earth. 
And  when  a  prairie-dog  barks  and  the  how-do- 
you-do  owl  sings  in  the  same  neighborhood,  you 
could  n't  tell  which  was  which  on  short  notice. 
When  you  get  close  enough  to  see  the  stanch  long 
legs  of  the  owl,  you  will  recognize  him.  And 
there  are  his  eyes,  big  and  round,  staring  at  noth- 
ing, as  only  the  eyes  of  any  owl,  or  of  a  cat,  can 
stare. 

J^  No  use  for  trees  has  this  queer  little  bird,  which 
seems,  in  its  habits,  so  like  a  rodent.  It  always 
prefers  the  open  country,  with  the  foxes,  and 
squirrels,  and  badgers,  and  rattlesnakes.  Some- 
times they  may  be  seen  in  big  towns  or  settle- 
pients,  and  again  with  just  a  neighbor  or  two,  as 
if  one  or  two  individuals  had  taken  up  a  quarter- 
Section  of  government  land.  You  may  anticipate 
great  fun  in  digging  out  a  ground-owl,  as  you  did 
in  the  case  of  the  kingfisher  and  the  woodpecker, 
but  the  chances  are  you  will  give  it  up  before  you 
'have  finished.  Should  you  conclude  to  go  on,  you 
would  n't  be  sure  of  just  how  many  white  eggs 


THE    BURROWING    OWL.  171 

you  were  to  pocket  when  you  got  to  the  chamber 
at  the  end  of  the  tunnel,  —  it  might  be  six,  and  it 
might  be  ten,  and  it  might  not  be  any  at  all,  if  the 
rattlers  had  been  there  before  you. 

The  ground-owl  family  have  no  fear  of  cold  or 
storm.  They  run  far  back  to  the  extreme  end  of 
their  dwelling,  and  cuddle  together  until  the 
storm  is  past,  waiting  several  days,  if  snowed 
under,  before  digging  their  way  to  the  light. 

It  is  supposed  that  mice  and  lizards  and  insects 
also  see  the  storm  coming,  and  take  refuge  in  the 
same  chambers  with  the  owls.  On  this  account 
do  the  owls  have  a  good  store  of  food  for  their 
rainy  day.  The  first  lizard  or  mouse  caught  in 
the  act  of  tickling  an  owl's  yellow  feet  is  break- 
fasted upon,  without  hesitation  on  the  part  of  the 
owl.  Is  he  not  a  meat-eating  animal  by  nature? 
And  the  mice  and  lizards  should  learn  a  lesson  by. 
the  example  of  their  comrades,  who  never  are 
seen,  after  once  entering  a  ground-owl's  chamber. 

Burrowing  owls  have  been  accused  of  loving 
the  company  of  the  gophers  and  squirrels  and 
prairie-dogs  for  the  purpose  of  eating  up  the 
young  ones.  By  a  careful  examination  of  their 
stomachs  it  has  been  proved  that  ground-owls 
live  mainly  upon  mice  and  lizards  and  small  in- 
sects. As  for  rattlesnakes,  if  one  of  these  ground 


172  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

terrors  chance  upon  the  doorway  of  a  ground-owl, 
and  venture,  by  mistake,  to  enter,  his  fate  is 
probably  in  advance  of  him,  for,  it  is  said,  he  is 
sure  to  be  killed  by  the  owl. 

A  curious  life  the  ground-owl  leads,  never  fly- 
ing in  the  treetops,  nor  migrating  to  different 
parts  of  the  country  to  see  what  is  going  on  in  the 
world.  And  yet  we  suppose  he  must  be  happy  in 
his  own  way,  or,  at  least,  is  perfectly  satisfied  with 
what  has  fallen  to  his  lot. 


THE   ANNA   HUMMING-BIRD. 


•HEN  your  are  near  the  shruu- 
bery  about  your  home,  or  in 
the  river  bottoms  and  arroyos, 
and  you  hear  a  humming  or  whiz- 
zing sound,  stand  stock-still  and 
wait !  You  will  see  a  glint  of  lilac- 
crimson  and  golden-green,  with  a 
shimmer  of  dusky  wings  —  and  that  is  the  male 
Anna  hummer. 

He  may  alight  close  to  you,  on  a  twig  as  small 
as  a  hat-pin,  and  preen  himself,  and  listen,  and 
doze  off  to  sleep.  Suddenly,  he  will  open  his  eyes 
at  a  sound  you  did  not  hear,  turn  his  beautiful 
head,  and  dart  off  into  the  sky.  You  may  watch 
him  until  he  is  the  size  of  a  fly  far  in  the  blue, 
when,  without  notice,  he 
will  dart  down,  and  then 
whirl  in  circles  above  your 
head,  and  trip  east  and 
west,  zigzag,  in  mid-air, 
and  then  disappear  in  the 
bush.  If  you  wait  a  while 


REFERENCE    TOPICS. 

Sycamore       trees       and 
leaves. 

Construction  of  spider- 
webs. 

Habits  of  spiders. 
Habits  of  opossums. 


173 


174  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

longer,  he  will  go  through  the  same  performance, 
and  you  may  catch  sight  of  his  lady-love  sitting 
demurely  on  a  bough.  It  was  for  her  he  was  show- 
ing off  so  beautifully.  She  has  no  sparkling  gems, 
or  scales  on  her  head  and  throat,  like  her  mate. 
Just  dull  green  she  is,  above,  with  whitish  gray 
beneath,  but  with  the  very  same  slender  black 
beak  and  feet  and  clear  black  eye.  She  is  accus- 
tomed to  the  antics  of  her  lover,  and  pays  little  heed 
to  him.  You  will  see  her  take  a  nap  while  he  is 
gone  into  the  sky  to  turn  somersaults  on  the  down 
trip. 

These  little  birds,  not  more  than  three  inches 
and  a  half  in  length,  are  among  our  best  and 
dearest.  They  are  fearless,  especially  if  we  avoid 
sudden  movements,  and  will  not  fly  even  though 
we  touch  the  twig  on  which  they  are  sitting. 
One  may  take  a  handful  of  flowers,  nasturtiums 
or  verbenas,  and  walk  slowly  about  the  grounds 
or  sit  quietly  down,  and  the  hummers  will  come 
and  sip  the  nectar,  fanning  one's  face  with  their 
gauzy  wings. 

At  nesting-time  the  male  is  nowhere  to  be  seen. 
He  has  gone  to  the  foothills,  or  somewhere  else, 
to  study  botany  among  the  wild  flowers.  The 
little  mother  bird  does  not  care,  and  she  goes  on 
alone  with  the  family  affairs.  The  nests  are  fre- 


THE    ANNA    HUMMING-BIRD.  175 

quently  very  low,  as  near  the  ground  as  two  or 
three  feet,  but  more  commonly  in  a  tree.  They 
like  the  sycamores  by  running  streams. 

If  you  examine  a  sycamore  leaf,  you  will  find 
the  under  side  covered  with  wool,  as  if  it  were  a 
sheep's  back.  This  wool  the  hummer  gathers  to 
weave  into  her  nest.  Besides  this  wool,  she  uses 
spider-web  and  lichens,  and  furze  from  weeds. 
When  it  is  completed,  the  nest  looks  exactly  like 
the  branch  on  which  it  is  built,  so  that  it  takes  a 
sharp  eye  to  discover  a  hummer's  nest. 

But  sycamore  leaves  with  wool  on  them  are  not 
to  be  found  in  midwinter,  when  the  hummers 
first  begin  to  nest.  It  is  only  in  midsummer  or 
late  spring  that  you  find  a  nest  made  of  wool.  In 
winter  the  hummer  finds  other  material,  and 
always  plenty  of  spider-web.  Our  cypress  hedges 
are  Anna's  storehouse  for  spider-web.  You  see 
the  little,  transparent,  glistening  patches  all  over 
the  hedges  on  a  foggy  morning.  Anna  sees  them, 
too,  and  flies  to  one  and  all,  gathering  her  beak- 
ful  without  once  standing  on  her  feet.  If  the  tiny 
spiders  see  their  enemy,  they  run  back  into  their 
parlors  behind  the  outer  leaves,  and  keep  as  still 
as  mice.  Should  they  not  run  fast  enough,  hum- 
mer will  make  a  breakfast  on  them. 

It   used   to   be    supposed    that    hummers    eat 


176  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

nothing  but  nectar  from  flowers;  but  it  is  well 
known  now  that  humming-birds  cannot  live  on 
nectar  alone.  They  must  have  insect-food.  Gar- 
den spiders,  too  small  for  other  people  to  catch 
sight  of,  are  their  special  favorites.  Little  gnats 
that  dance  about  in  the  air,  and  which  you  can- 
not see  unless  you  stand  in  exactly  the  right 
light,  are  hummer's  supper. 

If  you  make  yourself  known  to  the  mother  in 
quiet  ways,  never  stirring  about  quickly  where 
she  is  nesting,  she  will  give  you  all  her  secrets. 
It  will  pay  you  to  watch,  an  hour  at  a  time,  with- 
out speaking  to  any  one.  You  will  notice  that  as 
soon  as  the  nest  is  about  as  deep  as  a  blue-gum 
blossom  cover,  or  an  acorn  saucer,  the  first  egg 
will  belaid;  next  morning,  another,  —  and  these 
two  are  the  proper  number  of  eggs  for  any  hum- 
mer. Never  any  more.  As  she  sits,  you  will  see 
the  mother  fly  away  to  the  hedges,  often  in  the 
warm  hours  of  the  day,  and  bring  back  web  and 
lichens.  With  these  she  builds  the  nest  higher 
and  larger  around  the  eggs  until  it  is  the  right 
size.  In  ten  days  you  will  see  the  young  are 
hatched  in  the  nest  by  the  way  the  mother  stands 
up  and  arranges  something  beneath  her  breast, 
gently,  with  her  beak.  Do  not  be  in  haste  to 
look,  but  wait  until  she  leaves  it  for  a  minute. 


THE    ANNA    HUMMING-BIRD.  177 

Then  peep  in  and  say,  "0!  0!"  What  you  see 
is  not  so  very  much  bigger  than  a  couple  of  capi- 
tal O's.  And  they  are  black  and  bare.  They 
move  the  least  bit.  They  may  possibly  make  a 
cry,  that  only  the  mother's  ear  can  hear,  for  she 
returns  at  once  and  settles  down  above  her  dar- 
lings, not  minding  you  right  in  front  of  her.  She 
has  learned  by  this  time  that  you  would  n't  harm 
the  nest.  You  will  keep  on  watching  every  min- 
ute you  can  spare,  and  will  notice  that  for  a  week 
the  little  hummers  are  fed  as  often  as  every  fifteen 
or  twenty  minutes.  After  that,  longer  times  be- 
tween meals  will  answer.  The  mother  places  her 
beak  in  the  throat  of  the  little  ones,  exactly  as  the 
linnets  and  finches  do,  and  gives  the  food,  warm 
from  her  own  breast.  At  first  the  young  are  too 
weak  to  lift  their  heads,  and  the  mother  is  seen  to 
turn  their  beaks  with  her  own,  until  they  are  in  a 
position  to  take  their  meal.  But  the  young  have 
not  much  of  a  beak  to  begin  with.  You  will 
notice  that  they  are  only  pointed  lips.  But  they 
grow,  until  in  a  week  you  think  they  look  quite 
like  humming-birds'  beaks. 

There  is  something  about  these  strange,  slender, 
black  bills  which  you  will  never  see  for  yourself, 
and  so  you  must  be  told.  If  you  watch  a  hummer 
on  a  bough,  napping,  you  will  see  it  yawn  when 


.R.   VOL.  9—12 


178  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

it  wakes,  and  put  out  its  little  black  tongue  be- 
yond the  beak.  Now,  the  tongue  and  the  beak 
together  make  a  very  long  spoon  or  tube  which  is 
dipped  into  flower-cups.  You  wonder,  while  you 
see  the  long  tongue,  what  the  bird  does  with  it 
when  her  mouth  is  shut.  Sure,  she  curls  it  up 
around  the  back  of  the  skull  when  she  is  n't  using 
it.  You  have  seen  the  tongue  of  some  of  the 
moths  curl  up  under  the  chin  like  a  watch-spring 
when  they  are  not  at  their  meals. 

It  would  take  pretty  good  eyes  to  see  that  the 
tongue  of  the  hummer  is  a  double-barreled  tube, 
but  such  it  really  is.  Should  you  offer  honey  to 
the  bird,  she  could  not  take  it.  It  would  be  too 
thick.  Nectar  is  not  honey.  It  is  thin,  like 
water,  but  very  sweet. 

Once  we  found  a  boy  with  a  little  humming- 
bird in  his  hand.  He  refused  to  tell  us  where  he 
obtained  it,  and  so  we  could  not  give  it  back  to  its 
mother.  We  mixed  honey  and  milk  together, 
and  fed  it  with  a  little  eye-dropper,  drop  by  drop. 
Next  day  we  placed  it  in  the  nest  of  a  mother 
hummer,  and  she  adopted  it,  and  brought  it  up 
very  tenderly,  as  if  it  were  her  own. 

Humming-birds  seem  to  be  loved  by  the  other 
birds  in  our  grounds.  They  are  not  disturbed 
nor  driven  away.  They  nest  with  us  every  year, 


THE    ANNA    HUMMING-BIRD.  179 

in  midwinter.  When  it  storms,  we  cover  the 
nests  with  parasols  or  cloth,  and  the  mother  seems 
to  understand. 

It  is  said  that  a  humming-bird  can  be  fright- 
ened to  death  if  caught.  We  never  try  to  catch 
them  in  the  garden.  Once  a  male  flew  in  at  the 
window,  and  persisted  in  flying  about  the  ceiling. 
We  could  only  catch  it  with  a  broom,  very  gently. 
When  we  took  it  up,  it  lay  on  its  back  as  if  dead. 
We  took  it  outdoors,  and  it  opened  one  eye. 
Then  as  quick  as  a  flash  it  flew  away.  Some 
birds,  and  many  insects  and  animals,  do  "  play 
dead."  It  has  been  said  that  when  a  man  is 
attacked  by  wild  animals  like  tigers,  he  is  safe  if 
he,  too,  "plays  'possum."  So  the  humming-bird 
possesses  the  instinct  of  "playing  'possum"  for 
good  reasons.  But  this  is  only  when  they  have 
not  been  tamed  at  all.  Those  birds  which  come 
to  know  us  in  the  garden  allow  us  to  touch  them, 
or  even  to  break  the  twig  on  which  they  sit  and 
carry  it  away.  But  if  we  touch  them,  it  is  ever  so 
lightly.  We  do  not  grasp  them.  That  would 
make  them  afraid,  and  spoil  the  fun  of  having 
them  so  trustful. 

Humming-birds  do  not  thrive  in  confinement. 
They  are  never  seen  on  the  ground.  At  nesting- 
time  the  mother  comes  to  a  pile  of  old,  slacked 


180  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

lime  and  plaster,  and  eats  it,  supporting  herself 
by  her  wings.  The  tiny  feet  are  unable  to  walk 
or  to  stand  on  a  flat  surface.  If  window-boxes 
are  fitted  to  schoolroom  windows,  and  nasturtiums 
allowed  to  bloom  in  them,  the  humming-birds 
will  come  and  make  themselves  at  home.  City 
houses  can  have  these  window-plants,  and  so  the 
beautiful  hummers  may  be  seen  every  day.  We 
have  known  them  to  drink  from  a  saucer  of 
sweetened  water  placed  in  the  window. 


THE   BUSH-TIT. 


IHE  BUSH-TIT  is  the  smallest 
of  all  our  birds,  save  the  hum- 
ming-birds. It  is  a  familiar  and 
abundant  bird  on  all  our  Coast. 
In  winter,  the  woods  everywhere 
are  full  of  the  tiny  things,  working 
for  their  living  from  morning  till 
night.  High  and  low,  in  bush  and  tree,  far  from 
our  homes,  or  right  in  our  gardens  and  orchards, 
you  may  see  and  hear  these  little  tits.  They  keep 
up  a  constant  twittering,  whether  in  pairs  or 
flocks.  In  ,winter,  they  may  be  found  in  groups 
or  family  parties  of  a  dozen  to  twenty.  These 
are  probably  not  real  flocks,  as  you  see  in  migra- 
tory birds,  but  a  single  year's  family  all  together. 

As  from  five  to  eight 
little  ones  comprise  a  sin- 
gle brood,  and  a  pair  of 
bush-tits  may  nest  three 
times  during  the  spring, 
you  can  see  that  a  single 
season  may  result  in  quite 


REFERENCE    TOPICS. 

Scale  Insects  on  fruit 
trees.  How  Injurious. 
How  destroyed. 

Red,  black,  and  cottony 
cushion  scales. 

Value  of  birds  and  ants. 


181 


182  WESTERN    SERIES    OP    READERS. 

a  family  party.     And  they  have  a  way  of  keeping 
together  not  seen  with  other  birds. 

In  late  winter  and  spring  you  see  only  pairs 
together.     They  begin  to  talk  of  family  affairs  by 


\ 


YOUNG   BUSH-TIT. 


January  and  February,  and  may  be  seen  hunting 
nesting-sites,  before  the  frost  has  left  the  ground 
under  the  hedges. 

The  humming-bird  builds  the  smallest  nest 
among  the  birds,  and  the  bush-tit  the  largest, 
compared  with  the  size  of  the  builder.  We  have 
seen  several  of  these  swinging  nests  that  measure 


THE    BUSH-TIT.  183 

twelve  inches  in  length,  after  they  are  stretched 
by  wind  and  rain, — longer  than  any  oriole's  nest 
we  know  of.  Both  birds  work  at  the  nesting, 
beginning  early,  while  the  weather  is  still  wet  and 
cold,  like  the  thrashers  and  hummers. 

The  bush-tits  may  select  any  site  from  the  top 
of  any  high  tree  to  a  low  rose  or  other  bush. 
There  is  no  knowing  where  you  may  find  it!  But 
when  once  you  have  become  familiar  with  the 
twitter  of  the  wee  birds,  you  will  know  when  you 
are  not  far  from  their  nest.  Sometimes  it  is  at 
the  tip  of  a  swaying  bough,  and  again  it  is  con- 
cealed in  a  thick  bush,  but  it  is  always  hung  like 
a  pocket. 

So  far  as  we  can  make  out,  one  site  would  be  as 
good  as  another,  but  the  low  conversation  the 
birds  have  over  the  matter  convinces  us  that  they 
have  some  good  reason  for  selecting  a  certain 
spot.  They  must  take  into  account  wind  and  rain, 
with  an  occasional  flurry  of  snow,  besides  a  hot 
spell,  especially  in  southern  California. 

We  have  seen  the  bush-tits  build  a  good  many 
nests,  and  examined  more,  which  we  have  found 
in  different  places,  and  they  all  look  alike.  They 
are  exactly  the  same  color  on  the  outside,  varying 
a  little  in  shade,  —  a  mixed  drab,  gray,  and  white. 
The  nest  is  composed  of  mosses,  bits  of  dried 


184  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

weed-fiber,  threads  of  plants,  sycamore-leaf  wool, 
and  soft  bits  of  anything  else. 

The  beak  of  the  bush-tit  is  very  small  and 
pointed,  and  could  not  carry  large  loads  of  any- 
thing, like  the  mocker  and  the  blackbird.  So  the 
nest  is  put  together  in  the  smallest  pieces,  bit  by 
bit,  making  a  sort  of  felt  when  it  is  finished,  not 
easily  torn  or  broken.  Thistle-blossom,  and  milk- 
weed, and  everlasting,  with  sage  scraps,  are  hidden 
away  from  last  fall's  harvest  by  the  wind  and 
tucked  into  nooks  for  the  bush-tits  to  find  in  the 
spring. 

The  bush-tits  are  insect-eaters,  and  among 
other  foods  which  they  like  are  the  little  spiders 
about  hedges  and  on  the  trunks  of  trees  and  in 
cracks  along  the  bark  of  dead  wood.  You  have 
seen  little,  round,  flat  coverings  of  these  spiders' 
eggs  that  stick  on  flat  surfaces  and  are  not 
readily  torn  up.  In  their  search  after  spiders  and 
fresh  eggs  for  breakfast,  the  bush-tits  tear  these 
little  round  egg-wrappers  off,  and  use  them  in 
their  nests.  All  through  the  lichens  and  plant- 
fiber  we  find  these  little  round  white  disks.  On 
the  outside  of  one  nest  we  found  fifteen  of  these 
spider-cocoons  fastened  with  threads  from  decayed 
cactus  stalks. 

One  would  think  the  birds  would  use  strings  to 


THE    BUSH-TIT. 


185 


fasten  the  nest  in  place,  but  they  do  not.  It  is 
held  by  matting  bits  of  anything  together,  —  not 
woven,  but  pressed  and  lapped.  It  it  not  like  the 
oriole's  nest,  though  the  nest  of  the  Baltimore 
oriole  resembles  it,  in  a  way.  The  oriole  actually 
weaves  her  nest  of  string  or  fiber.  The  bush-tit 
makes  a  coarse,  strong  felt.  You  may  under- 
stand the  difference  by  comparing  a  piece  of  old 
wool-felt  hat  and  woven-straw  hat.  And  yet  the 
bush-tit's  nest  hangs  to  the  tree  as  firmly  as  that 
of  an  oriole.  We  have  not  known  a  storm  to 
tear  one  of  them  away.  It  may  become  stretched 
and  blown  out  of 
shape,  but  a  nestful 
of  young  bush-tits  in 
a  March  storm  is  as 
safe  as  though  placed 
under  the  barn-eaves. 
The  nest  begins 
with  a  round,  bulging 
upper  end.  After  an 
inch  or  two,  it  nar- 
rows into  a  smaller 
neck,  like  a  bottle, 
and  then  widens  into 
the  long  pocket.  On 
the  side  of  the  long  BUSH-TIT'S  NEST. 


186  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

pocket  a  round  doorway  is  made,  just  large  enough 
for  one  bird  to  pass  in  and  out.  We  have  seen  a 
doorway  in  the  top,  as  well,  and  in  one  single 
nest  there  were  three  doors.  But  this  is  not 
common.  Just  one  door  is  the  rule,  and  that  one 
is  placed  on  the  south  side  of  the  nest,  probably 
so  our  northeast  storms  will  not  drive  in. 

At  the  bottom  of  the  pocket,  on  a  soft  lining  of 
wool  or  plant-down,  the  eggs  are  placed.  The 
young  remain  in  the  nest  until  full-feathered,  and 
when  they  come  out  they  are  exactly  the  same 
color  as,  and  but  a  little  smaller  than,  their 
parents.  In  our  garden  they  remain  about  the 
home-tree  for  several  weeks,  like  the  humming- 
birds, sitting  on  a  twig  at  night,  snuggled  all  in  a 
row,  like  peas,  with  a  parent  bird  on  either  side. 

The  bush-tits  have  built  in  the  same  pepper 
tree  in  our  grounds  for  years.  They  are  fearless 
of  us,  and  accept  bits  of  things  we  place  in  sight 
for  their  nests. 

We  have  brought  in  old  nests  from  the  foothills 
and  placed  them  in  sight  of  the  bush-tits,  when 
they  would  pull  them  to  pieces  and  use  every  bit 
in  their  new  nest.  Once  we  placed  surgeon's 
absorbent  cotton  in  sight  of  the  bush-tits,  and  it 
made  them  fairly  wild.  They  could  carry  more 
of  this  cotton  than  of  any  material  they  had  ever 


THE    BUSH-TIT.  187 

seen.  Cotton  sticks  together,  and  does  n't  fall 
apart  like  threads.  The  "bushies"  worked  long 
and  well  at  the  cotton  until  they  had  as  much 
lining  as  outside  to  the  nest.  But  a  dreadful 
thing  happened  !  Absorbent  cotton  takes  up  all 
the  water,  you  know,  and  holds  it.  Common 
cotton  will  shed  water.  A  storm  came  when  the 
eggs  were  ready  to  hatch,  and  drove  right  in  at 
the  nest  door.  Of  course  it  drowned  all  the  little 
bushies.  There  they  lay  in  a  puddle  of  water  at 
the  bottom  of  the  nest.  We  had  not  thought 
of  the  rain  when  we  put  out  the  cotton! 

The  old  birds  tore  the  nest  all  to  pieces,  and 
built  it  over  again  in  another  pepper  tree;  but 
they  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  cotton. 
They  dropped  it  on  the  grass.  Nor  will  they 
touch  another  bit  of  white  cotton,  though  we 
place  it  all  about  for  the  birds  every  spring. 
They  have  learned  a  lesson. 

The  bush-tits  are  very  useful  birds.  Though 
so  small,  they  seem  never  to  get  enough  to  eat. 
And  you  may  see  them  at  the  scale  on  the  orange 
and  other  trees,  as  if  it  were  their  business  to  help 
us  get  rid  of  it.  If  we  had  more  bush-tits  about 
our  homes,  they  would  take  all  the  scale  that 
annoys  us  so.  We  have  seen  them  hunt  in  a 
Japanese  vine  on  the  fence  until  they  had  taken 


188  WESTERN    SERIES    OP    READERS. 

every  scale;  and  the  olive  trees  are  their  favorite 
hunting-grounds.  Wherever  the  black  scale  is 
found,  there,  also,  is  the  dear  little  bush-tit  with 
its  cheerful  twitter. 


OUR  WEST   COAST   THRUSHES. 


yHE  HERMIT  THRUSH  is  a 

winter  visitant  on  this  Coast. 
It  runs  along  under  our  win- 
dow, through  the  dripping  myrtle 
and  nasturtiums,  by  the  first  dawn 
of  the  morning.  Always  there  is  one 
bird  alone,  as  if  it  were  indeed  a  hermit,  caring 
nothing  for  the  society  of  other  people.  It  is  the 
most  beautiful  singer  of  any  ground-bird  we  are 
acquainted  with. 

The  sparrows  go  in  pairs  or  small  "companies 
over  the  selfsame  ground  near  the  house,  but  the 
hermit  is  all  by  itself,  with  only  its  melody  for 
company. 

We  hear  the  song  before  it  is  quite  daylight, 
and  run  to  the  window  to  look.  There  is  the 
hermit,  creeping  along  in  the  dusk,  under  the 
plant  leaves,  after  his  breakfast  of  belated  night- 
insects.  Many  insects  are  |  ^j^^  TOPICS. 
fond  of  moist  climates, 

Climate  (dry  and   wet), 

and  would  die  quickly  in 
the   dry,   warm    noontide. 

189 


and      its      effects      on 
plants  and  animals. 


190  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

So  they  make  home  under  the  violet  and  pansy 
leaves,  and  among  the  ferns  we  brought  down 
from  the  canons  and  planted  under  the  north 
window.  Hermit  knows  their  habits,  and  hunts 
confidently.  Why  should  he  or  other  birds  be 
afraid  in  our  grounds?  They  have  learned  that 
we  allow  no  cats  or  dogs  on  the  place.  We  would 
rather  have  one  hermit  thrush  in  winter  under 
our  bedroom  windows  than  the  pick  of  all  the 
cats  in  the  country. 

You  will  notice  that  the  beak  of  the  thrushes 
is  unlike  that  of  the  sparrows.  The  thrush  has  a 
long,  pointed  beak,  but  not  so  pointed  as  the 
oriole's.  It  is  exactly  the  proper  shape  to  pick  up 
small  insects,  but  it  would  be  unable  to  crack 
seeds  or  sew  stitches  of  palm-fiber.  We  feed 
crumbs  to  the  hermit  on  the  garden-table,  and  he 
appears  to  enjoy  them,  especially  if  they  be  cookie 
crumbs.  He  also  likes  berries  which  have  been 
left  on  the  stems  on  purpose  for  our  winter  visi- 
tors. 

The  hermit  hides  away  in  dark  places  by  day- 
time. It  nests  in  the  far  mountains  and  forests  of 
the  North,  where  it  sings  its  best  songs  to  the 
deep,  dark  woods. 

The  russet-backed  thrush  so  nearly  resembles 
the  hermit,  that  it  takes  a  keen  eye  to  tell  which 


OUR    WEST    COAST    THRUSHES.  191 

is  which.  But  when  summer  has  come,  and  our 
winter  visitor  the  hermit  has  gone  away,  we  know 
the  bird  we  see  is  not  the  hermit,  but  the  russet- 
back.  We  do  not  see  him  at  all,  perhaps,  for  a 
long  while,  but  just  at  nightfall,  when  the  other 
birds  have  mostly  gone  to  bed,  there  comes  a 
liquid  note,  like  the  drip  of  water,  from  the  thick- 
est shrubbery.  We  know  it  is  the  russet-back, 
and  we  smile,  and  keep  very  still,  so  we  may  hear 
more  of  that  liquid  song -drip.  Like  all  the 
thrushes,  it  is  a  ground-bird,  getting  its  living  by 
tilling  the  soil,  like  the  farmer  that  it  is.  You 
might  find  it  nesting  in  the  moist  willow  regions, 
or  in  the  canons,  where  the  little  streams  have 
not  been  all  turned  into  iron  pipes  for  city  uses. 

The  russet-back  is  a  shy  bird,  not  flying  high 
in  plain  sight,  like  the  mockers  and  finches  and 
other  birds.  If  you  are  out  to  find  it,  you  would 
better  hunt  in  moist  places,  under  the  holly 
bushes,  where  the  loam  is  dark  and  rich. 

The  thrushes  make  similar  nests  everywhere. 
They  seldom  use  mud,  like  their  relatives  the 
robins,  but  you  might  take  it  for  granted  they  do, 
by  the  appearance  of  the  nest  when  it  is  done. 
You  must  learn  to  examine  closely,  if  you  are  a 
bird-student,  for  differences  that  do  not  speak  in 
very  loud  tones.  The  nests  of  the  thrushes  are 


192 


WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 


packed  and  felted  together  leaf  by  leaf,  or  grass 
blade  by  grass  blade,  dead  leaves  and  fiber,  so 
that  the  whole  is  as  compact  and  snug  as  if  dried 
mud.  They  pack  the  material  when  it  is  wet, 
and  so  it  adheres  firmly.  Their  nests  never  crack, 
like  mud  nests,  but  seem  a  part  of  the  damp,  cool 
nooks  they  are  placed  in.  The  eggs  are  greenish 
blue,  spotted  with  brown,  and  you  may  find  four 
or  five.  Leave  them  to  the  nest,  and  you  may 
have  the  fun  of  seeing  russet-backed  baby 
thrushes  before  they  have  much  else  but  skin  on 
their  backs. 

The  varied  thrush  is  quite  different  from  either 
the  hermit  or  russet-back.  It  is  as  large  as  a 
robin,  and  is  often  called  the  Oregon  robin.  But 
with  the  varied  thrush  as  with  its  relatives,  you 

must  be  up  early  to  see 
it.    And  you  must  be  very 
quiet.      You   will    never 
f  see  a   varied   thrush    in 

winter  if  you  make  any  noise 
or  walk  rapidly  about.  Like 
the  hermit  and  the  russet-back, 
it  loves  best  to  be  alone,  except 
at  nesting-time.  The  varied 
thrushes  come  south  in  winter, 
THE  VABIED  THRUSH,  and  we  know  they  are  here  by 


OUR    WEST    COAST    THRUSHES.  193 

the  vigorous  scratching  going  on  in  the  mulch- 
ing under  the  trees.  And  it  is  such  a  striking 
bird  in  colors,  that  it  makes  a  pretty  picture,  con- 
trasting with  the  orange  and  green  of  the  citrus 
orchards. 

When  the  farmer  or  orchardist  mulches  his 
trees  just  before  the  first  rains,  he  little  thinks  he 
is  setting  a  table  for  visiting  birds.  But  so  he  is. 
All  sorts  of  insects  thrive  in  warm,  loose  litter, 
and  the  thrushes  wait  until  it  is  moist  and  well 
packed  before  they  come  to  scratch  it  over. 
Mulch,  especially  barn-yard  litter,  makes  a  warm 
nest  for  insect  eggs  and  larvae,  as  you  may  find 
out  for  yourself  if  you  thrust  your  hand  far  down 
beneath  it  some  cold  day  in  winter,  where  it  has 
been  spread  weeks  before  to  enrich  the  trees. 
You  will  find  the  earth  beneath  the  mulching  as 
warm  as  on  a  spring  day.  It  is  here  that  varied 
thrush  finds  its  breakfast,  and  he  often  digs  a  long 
while  before  he  gets  down  to  the  warmest  spot, 
where  his  quest  is  sure  to  be  rewarded. 

The  varied  thrush  spends  the  summer  in 
Alaska,  nesting  in  the  deep  woods,  in  dark  spruce 
trees.  The  nest  is  felted  with  dead  leaves  and 
fiber,  like  that  of  the  russet-back,  but  also  has  a 
mixture  of  mud,  like  the  robin's.  In  that  far 
north  home  these  thrushes  lose  their  shy  habits, 

W.  S.R.   VOL.  9—13 


194  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

and  forget  to  be  hermits.  They  appear  about  the 
last  of  May,  and  make  the  woods  ring  with  their 
musical  note,  even  before  the  lakes  and  streams 
have  thawed. 

On  their  arrival  in  Alaska,  they  find  berries  for 
food  just  thawing  out  of  the  snow-drifts,  cranber- 
ries and  blueberries.  They  have  a  gay  time  after 
they  arrive,  before  it  is  quite  time  to  begin  nest- 
ing. They  frolic  in  the  woods,  and  chase  one 
another,  and  squeal,  and  have  many  a  beak-to- 
beak  fight,  though  no  one  seems  to  be  very  much 
hurt. 

A  pair  of  varied  thrushes  are  said  to  return  to 
the  same  spot  year  after  year  in  the  cold  north, 
making  a  new  nest  each  season,  on  top  of  the  last 
year's  nest. 


OF  VHt 

JWIVERSI 

or 


IDENTIFICATION   CHAPTER. 

Western  Gull  (the  common  Sea-Gull).  —  Legs  rather  long 
and  feet  webbed;  bill  deep  and  strong;  length,  2  feet;  plu- 
mage pure  white,  except  for  top  of  wings  and  middle  back, 
which  are  dark  slaty  blue,  and  part  of  the  wing-feathers,  which 
are  black;  young  mottled  with  drab  or  brown.  Abundant 
resident  along  the  sea-coast  and  in  San  Francisco  Bay.  (See 
page  103.) 

Brown  Pelican. —  Length,  4%  feet;  stretch  of  wings,  8% 
feet ;  bill,  13  inches  long,  with  large,  bare  elastic  pouch  hang- 
ing beneath  ;  head  white,  yellow-tinged  ;  rest  of  plumage  gray- 
ish. Common  most  of  the  year  along  our  Western  sea-coast 
south  of  Puget  Sound.  (See  page  147.) 

American  Coot,  or  Mud-Hen.  —  Duck-like  in  appearance 
and  habits,  but  legs  long,  and  toes  "lobed"  instead  of  com- 
pletely webbed ;  plumage  sooty  black,  more  slaty  below,  some- 
times whitish ;  bill  conspicuously  whitish,  with  an  extension 
running  back  onto  the  forehead;  length,  14  inches;  tail  very 
short.  Abundant  on  ponds  and  marshy  lakes  everywhere. 
(See  page  93.) 

Killdeer  Plover  .—Legs  long,  three-toed ;  length,  10)£  inches ; 
back  brownish ;  lower  parts  white,  except  for  two  black  bars 
across  the  breast ;  white  patch  on  forehead  between  two  other 
black  bands.  Abundant  resident  on  damp  meadows  and 
around  ponds.  (See  page  97.) 

Mourning  Dove  (often  called  Turtle-Dove).  —  Length,  12 
195 


196  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

inches;  tail,  6  inches,  wedge-shaped,  with  pointed  feathers 
tipped  conspicuously  with  white;  back  and  under  surface 
brownish,  changing  into  pinkish  on  the  breast  and  gray  on  the 
head.  Abundant  in  spring,  summer,  and  fall,  almost  every- 
where in  the  West.  (See  page  15.) 

Burro  wing-Owl,  or  Ground-Owl.  — Rather  small  for  an 
owl;  length,  10  inches;  legs  long  and  bare;  plumage,  above, 
dull  brown  spotted  with  white,  below,  whitish  barred  with 
brown.  Common  resident  of  prairie  regions  or  uncultivated 
fields.  (See  page  168.) 

Road-Sinner.  —  Large  and  pheasant-like;  total  length,  2 
feet,  of  which  the  long  tail  takes  up  12  inches ;  wings  short  and 
weak;  head  with  a  steel-blue  crest;  plumage,  above,  varied 
with  glossy  dark  blue,  brownish  and  whitish;  under  parts 
whitish,  with  breast  narrowly  black-streaked  ;  tail  tipped  with 
white.  Common  resident  of  the  warmer  valleys  and  foothills 
of  the  Southwest.  (See  page  130.) 

Belted  Kingfisher.  — Length,  12  inches;  head  with  a  tall 
crest ;  this  and  the  rest  of  the  upper  surface  slaty  gray  ;  lower 
parts  white,  except  for  a  band  of  slaty  blue  across  the  breast ; 
in  the  female  there  is  also  a  belt  of  rufous  brown,  which  also 
tinges  the  sides.  Locally  resident  along  streams  and  sea-coast. 
(See  page  60.) 

California  Woodpecker.—  Length ,  9>£  inches ;  steely  black, 
except  for  white  patch  on  wings,  conspicuous  in  flight;  white 
band  on  forehead  ;  yellowish  throat-patch  ;  bright  red  crown- 
patch  ;  white  rump ;  and  white  belly.  Common  resident  of 
oak  regions,  and  of  forested  country  generally.  (See  page  31.) 

Red-breasted  Woodpecker,  or  Sapsucker.  —  Length,  8% 
inches  ;  whole  head  and  breast  dull  red  ;  belly  pale  yellowish  ; 


IDENTIFICATION    CHAPTER.  197 

back,  wings,  and  tail  black,  marked  with  white.  Sometimes  a 
common  winter  visitant  to  the  valley  regions,  where  it  pecks 
spirals  of  small  holes  around  the  trunks  of  alder,  pepper, 
peach,  and  other  trees.  (See  page  31.) 

Red-shafted  Flicker.  —  Length,  13  inches ;  body  in  general 
brownish  or  grayish,  the  back  narrowly  barred,  the  breast 
polka-dotted  with  black ;  under  sides  of  wings  and  tail  red, 
this  and  the  white  rump-patch  being  conspicuous  in  flight; 
male  with  bright  red  patches  at  sides  of  throat.  Abundant 
everywhere,  especially  in  winter.  (See  page  38.) 

Anna  Humming-Bird  (not  the  "Ruby-Throat,"  which  is 
found  only  west  of  the  Rocky  Mountains). — Very  small ;  length, 
4  inches  or  less ;  bill  long  and  slender ;  wings  narrow ;  back 
shiny  green;  female  with  lower  surface  plain,  ashy,  tinged 
with  green ;  male  with  brilliant  iridescent  "gorget"  (throat- 
patch)  and  crown,  of  changeable  ruby-red  hues.  Common 
resident  of  the  valleys  west  of  the  Sierras ;  especially  numerous 
about  flower-gardens.  (See  page  173.) 

Black  Phoe.be  (often  called  Pewee).  —  Length,  6}£  inches ; 
bill  shallow,  but  broad  at  base  ;  feet  rather  small ;  whole  body, 
wings,  and  tail  black,  except  for  the  lower  surface  from  the 
breast  back,  which  is  abruptly  pure  black.  Common  perma- 
nent resident  in  the  valleys  of  California ;  oftenest  met  with 
along  streams,  about  barn-yards  and  stock-farms.  (See  page 
21.) 

California  Ja^.  — Length,  11%  inches;  tail  5%  inches; 
wings,  tail,  and  most  of  head  blue ;  line  over  eye,  throat,  and 
rest  of  lower  parts  white.  Abundant  resident  west  of  the  high 
Sierras.  (See  page  67.) 

Common  Crow.  —  Length,  16  inches ;  bill  and  feet  stout ; 


198  WESTERN    SERIES    OP    READERS. 

plumage  entirely  jet  black.     Common  coastwise,  and  locally 
in  the  interior  valleys  west  of  the  Sierras.     (See  page  41.) 

Linnet,  or  House-Finch.  — Length,  5>£  inches;  bill  short 
and  very  stout ;  male  with  head,  breast,  and  rump  bright  red  ; 
elsewhere  streaked  obscurely  with  grayish  brown  ;  female  and 
young  grayish  brown  all  over,  streaked  dully  with  brown 
beneath,  but  no  red  anywhere.  Abundant  permanent  resi- 
dent, except  in  the  high  mountains  and  northerly.  (See 
page?.) 

Willow  Goldfinch  (often  called  Wild  Canary).  — Length, 
4%  inches;  male  with  crown,  wings,  and  tail  black,  the  latter 
with  white  markings ;  rest  of  plumage  entirely  bright  yellow  ; 
female  entirely  greenish  brown,  tinged  with  yellow  beneath. 
Common  in  summer  in  willow  groves  and  cultivated  orchards 
in  moist  localities.  (See  page  157.) 

Arkansas  or  Green-backed  Goldfinch  (often  called  Wild 
Canary).  —  Smaller;  length,  4  inches  ;  male  with  whole  top  of 
head,  wings,  and  tail  black,  the  latter  marked  with  white; 
back  dark  green  ;  lower  surface  bright  yellow ;  female  duller, 
without  black  on  head.  Common  resident  of  the  valley  and 
foothill  regions.  (See  page  153.) 

English  Sparrow.  —  Bill  stout  and  swollen;  length,  6 
inches ;  general  color  grayish  brown ;  male  with  large  throat- 
patch  black  ;  sides  of  head  and  patch  on  wing  chestnut ;  back 
streaked  with  sooty;  female  plainer,  grayish  beneath  and 
brownish  above.  Resident  in  towns  of  central  California, 
especially  the  bay  cities.  (See  page  114.) 

Western  Chipping  Sparrow  (Chippie).  — Smallest  of  our 
sparrows  ;  length,  5^  inches  ;  tail  proportionately  long ;  lower 
surface  ashy  white;  back  pale  brown,  striped  with  black;  top 


IDENTIFICATION    CHAPTER.  199 

of  head  with  large  chestnut  patch ;  forehead  and  line  through 
eye  black ;  line  over  eye,  and  vertical  dash  in  center  of  fore- 
head whitish  ;  young  streaked  below.  Common  in  summer  in 
gardens  and  orchards,  as  well  as  in  native  woods.  (See  page 
113.) 

Song-Sparrow  (with  several  different  races).  —  Length, 
5^  to  6%  inches ;  bill  cone-shaped ;  feet  strong ;  plumage, 
lengthwise  streaked  with  brown  or  blackish,  the  streaks 
below  joining  to  form  a  dense  black  spot  in  center  of  breast ; 
belly  white ;  top  of  head  and  back  with  admixture  of  chestnut. 
Abundant  resident  along  streams  and  in  moist  brushy  places 
generally.  (See  page  53.) 

Fox-Sparrow  (with  several  races).  —  A  large  sparrow; 
length,  7  inches ;  feet  large ;  bill  sharp-pointed,  but  very 
thick  at  base ;  general  color  above,  dark  brown ;  below,  whit- 
ish, thickly  marked  on  breast  with  conspicuous  sooty-brown 
arrow-shaped  spots.  Common  winter  visitant  in  brushy  locali- 
ties anywhere,  appearing  about  hedges  and  gardens.  (See 
page  109.) 

White-crowned  Sparrow  (three  races).-— -Length,  6^ 
inches;  below,  ashy  white;  above,  pale  brownish,  streaked 
with  dark  brown,  or  sooty ;  wings  variously  mottled  with  bay, 
whitish,  and  sooty  ;  top  of  head  with  three  conspicuous  white 
stripes  and  two  jet-black  ones  ;  young  with  black  crown-stripes 
replaced  with  brown  ones.  Abundant  winter  resident  every- 
where. One  race  (Nuttall  sparrow)  summers  in  coast  region 
from  Monterey  northward,  including  the  San  Francisco  parks. 
(See  page  111.) 

Golden-crowned  Sparrow.  —  Larger ;  length,  G%  inches; 
beneath,  pale  brown ;  above,  darker,  streaked  with  sooty  on 
the  back  ;  top  of  head  with  two  black  stripes  inclosing  a  bright 


200  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

yellow  crown-spot;  young  with  black  head-stripes  replaced 
with  brown,  but  yellow  always  present,  though  sometimes 
pale.  Common  winter  visitant  in  brushy  localities  west  of  the 
Sierras.  (See  page  109.) 

California  or  Brown  Towhee.  — Feet  and  bill  stout; 
length,  8%  inches;  plumage  almost  uniform  brown,  becoming 
reddish  under  the  tail ;  throat  paler,  with  a  margin  of  faint 
dusky  spots.  Abundant  resident  west  of  the  Sierras.  (See 
page  161.) 

Spurred  Towhee  (with  three  races).  — Length,  8  inches; 
bill  and  feet  stout,  the  hind  toe  bearing  an  unusually  long 
claw ;  whole  head  and  upper  surface  black  or  sooty  brown ;  a 
few  white  spots  on  wings  and  at  tip  of  tail ;  sides  bright  rufous 
belly  white.  Common  resident  of  brushy  places  and  hedges 
(See  page  159.) 

Cliff-Swallow,  or  Eave-Swallow.  — Bill  and  feet  small; 
length,  5}4  inches;  under  parts  white,  except  for  a  black 
breast-spot,  and  a  chestnut-brown  throat ;  forehead  conspicu- 
ously whitish  ;  top  of  head  and  back  dark  steely  blue.  Abun- 
dant summer  visitant,  building  a  gourd-shaped  nest  on  barns 
and  cliffs.  (See  page  121.) 

Bank-Swallow  ( sometimes  called  Sand-Martin ) . — Smaller ; 
length,  5  inches;  upper  surface  sooty  brown;  beneath,  white, 
with  a  dark  band  across  the  breast.  Common  locally  as  a 
summer  visitant,  nesting  in  holes  in  bluffs  and  river  banks. 
(Seepage  117.) 

Cedar  Waxwing.  — Length,  6%  inches;  head  with  a  tall 
crest;  tail  tipped  with  yellow;  some  of  wing-feathers  with 
bright-red  waxy  tips ;  black  stripe  on  sides  of  head  ;  rest  of 
plumage  softly  tinted  with  olive-grays  and  browns.  Irregular 


IDENTIFICATION    CHAPTER.  201 

winter  visitant  in  flocks,  feeding  on  various  wild  berries.  (See 
page  125.) 

California  Shrike,  or  Butcher-Bird.  —  Length,  9  inches ; 
above,  plain  slate-gray ;  below,  whitish  ;  wings  and  tail  black, 
with  white  areas,  which  show  in  conspicuous  contrast  during 
flight;  a  jet-black  belt  on  sides  of  head,  inclosing  eyes.  Com- 
mon resident  of  open  valleys.  (See  page  141.) 

Audubon  Warbler.  — Length,  5)£  inches;  plumage  in  win- 
ter, above,  brownish  gray,  dusky  streaked ;  the  same,  but  paler, 
beneath  ;  a  bright  yellow  spot  on  rump,  one  on  crown,  one  on 
throat,  and  one  at  each  side  of  the  breast;  wings  and  tail 
blackish,  the  latter  with  large  white  spots  near  tip,  which 
show  as  a  conspicuous  white  band  in  flight.  Abundant  winter 
visitant  to  the  valley  regions  of  California,  summering  in  the 
high  Sierras  and  northward.  (See  page  75.) 

Yellow   Warbler,   or   Summer   Yellow-Bird.  —  Small ; 

length,  4)£  inches;  bill  slender;  male  almost  wholly  bright 
yellow  ;  narrow  chestnut  stripes  on  breast,  and  back  greenish ; 
female  yellowish  green,  paler  on  lower  surface.  Common 
spring  and  summer  visitant  to  deciduous  woodlands  and 
orchards.  (See  page  75.) 

Mocking-Bird.  —  Length,  10  inches ;  tail  4%  inches ;  wings 
and  tail  blackish,  with  a  large  amount  of  white,  which  shows 
as  conspicuous  patches  in  flight ;  upper  parts  drab  gray ;  lower 
surface  whitish  ;  bill  and  feet  black.  Common  resident  of  the 
southern  Calif ornian  and  interior  valleys.  (See  page  84.) 

Vigors  Wren.  —  Length,  5)^  inches ;  bill  long,  slender,  and 
slightly  curved;  above,  plain  dark  brown;  beneath,  ashy 
white ;  a  conspicuous  white  stripe  over  each  eye ;  tail  tipped 
with  ashy  and  narrowly  barred  with  sooty ;  rump  with  partly 


202  WESTERN    SERIES    OF    READERS. 

concealed  white  spots.     Common   resident  of  brushy  places 
everywhere.     (See  page  137.) 

Parkman  Wren,  or  Western  House-Wren.  — Length,  4% 
inches  ;  bill  shorter  than  last ;  no  conspicuous  white  line  i>\vr 
eye;  plumage  plain  ashy  brown  above,  somewhat  paler  be- 
neath. Common  summer  visitant  in  wooded  regions.  (Sec 
page  138.) 

Tule-Wren  (often  called  Marsh-Wren). —  Small;  length, 
4j£  inches ;  top  of  head  and  middle  of  back  black,  the  latter 
streaked  with  white  ;  elsewhere,  light  brown,  becoming  whitish 
below;  wings  and  tail  finely  barred  with  black.  Common 
resident  of  grassy  marshes  and  swamps.  (See  page  140.) 

Cactus-Wren.  —  Very  large  for  a  wren;  "length,  8  inches; 
plumage  above,  brown;  below,  whitish;  everywhere  streaked 
or  spotted  with  black.  Common  resident  of  the  driest  locali- 
ties in  southern  California.  (See  page  135.) 

Bush-Tit.  —  Very  small;  length,  414  inches;  tail  propor- 
tionately long;  color,  plain  brownish  gray,  lightest  beneath 
and  brownest  on  top  of  head.  Abundant  resident  of  wooded 
valleys  and  foothills,  especially  among  oaks.  (See  page  181.) 

Hermit  Thrush  (with  several  races).  —  Length,  6%  inches  ; 
above,  dark  brownish  gray,  brightening  to  deep  rufous  on  tail ; 
below,  white,  coarsely  spotted  with  sooty  across  the  breast ; 
a  concealed  yellowish  brown  band  across  inside  of  wings, 
which  shows  only  in  flight.  Abundant  winter  visitant.  (See 
page  189.) 

Russet-backed  Thrush.  —  Length,  7%  inches;  above,  uni- 
form russet  brown ;  below,  whitish,  suffused  with  pale  tawny 
across  the  breast  and  sparsely  spotted  with  sooty  brown. 


IDENTIFICATION    CHAPTER. 

Common  summer  visitant  to  the  damp  lowlands,  especially 
along  streams.     (See  page  190.) 

Western  Robin.  —  Length,  10}^  inches;  head,  wings,  and 
tail  blackish  ;  back  grayish  brown  ;  throat  narrowly  black-and- 
white  streaked ;  rest  of  lower  surface  bright  rufous  brown, 
or  "  red."  Abundant  winter  visitant  to  the  valleys,  summer- 
ing on  the  mountains  and  northerly.  (See  page  45.) 

Varied  Thrush,  or  Oregon  Robin. — Size  of  common  robin, 
but  tail  rather  shorter;  length,  9><  inches;  male  with  back 
dark  slate;  below,  orange  brown,  with  a  conspicuous  black 
bar  across  breast;  line  over  eye  orange  brown  ;  female  similar, 
but  back  browner,  and  breast-band  brownish  or  nearly  want- 
ing. Common  midwinter  visitant  in  the  foothill  regions,  feed- 
ing on  wild  berries.  (See  page  192.) 


List  of  Educational  Publications 

...OF... 

THE  WHITAKER  &  RAY  COMPANY 

San  Francisco 
Complete  Descriptive  Circular  sent  on  application 

Net  Prices 

Algebraic  Solution  of  Equations— Andre  and  Buchanan     -       -       -  $0  80 

An  Aid  to  the  Lady  of  the  Lake,  etc.— J.  W.  Graham  -  25 

Amusing  Geography  and  Map  Drawing— Mrs.  L.  C.  Schutze  -       -  1  00 

Brief  History  ot  California— Hittell  and  Faulkner   ....  50 

Current  History— Harr  Wagner 25 

Civil  Government  Simplified— J.J.  Duvall 25 

Complete  Algebra— J.  B.  Clarke 1  00 

Elementary  Exercises  in  Botany— V.  Rattan 75 

Grammar  by  the  Inductive  Method— W.  C.  Doub  25 

Heart  Culture— Emma  E.  Page 75 

How  to  Celebrate— J.  A.  Shedd 25 

Key  to  California  State  Arithmetic— A.  M.  Armstrong        -  1  00 

Key  to  West  Coast  Botany— V.  Rattan 1  00 

Lessons  Humane  Education— Emma  E.  Page— per  part  ...  25 

Lessons  in  Nature  Study— Jenkins  and  Kellogg 1  00 

Lessons  in  Language  Work— Susan  Isabel  Frazee   ....  50 

Manual  of  School  Law— J.  W.  Anderson 1  25 

Matka— David  Starr  Jordan 75 

Moral  Culture  as  a  Science— Bertha  S.  Wilkins           -       -       -       -  1  00 

Nature  Stories  of  the  North-West—Herbert  Bashford   -  50 

New  Essentials  of  Book-keeping— C.  W.  Childs          ....  75 

Orthoepy  and  Spelling— John  W.  I mes— per  part        ....  20 

Poems  for  Memorizing— Alice  R.  Power 6ft 

Paper  and  Cardboard  Construction— A.  H.  Chamberlain       -  75 

Pacific  History  Stories— Harr  Wagner                   50 

Pacific  Nature  Stories— Harr  Wagner 50 

Patriotic  Quotations— Harr  Wagner 40 

Readings  from  California  Poets— Edmund  Russell 

Science  Record  Book— Josiah  Keep 50 

Shells  and  Sea  Life— Josiah  Keep 50 

Stories  of  Oregon— Eva  E.  Dye 50 

Supplement  to  State  History— Harr  Wagner    -  25 

Spanish  in  Spanish ----125 

Spanish  Phonography— I.  I.  Ferry       ...               ...  i  00 

Story  of  Evangeline — L.H.Vincent 25 

Stories  of  Our  Mother  Earth— H.W.  Fairbanks      ....  50 

Studies  in  Entomology— H.M.  Bland 50 

Study  of  the  Kindergarten  Problems— F.  L.  Burk         ...  50 

Tales  of  Discovery  on  Pacific  Slope— M.  G.  Hood    ...       -  50 

Tales  of  Philippines— R.  Van  Bergen 

Topical  Analysis  of  United  States  History— C.  W.  Childs     -       -  75 
Topical  Discussions  of  American  History— W.  C.  Doub     - 

Toy  on  Holiday  Recitations— Allie  M.  Felker 35 

West  Coast  Shells— Josiah  Keep 1  75 

LATEST    ISSUES 

Browne's  Graded  Mental  Arithmetic  — Frank  J.  Browne          -       -  30 

New  Pacific  Geography  —  California  Edition  —  Harr  Wagner    -  100 
Practical  Aids  to  Literature,  No.  i-  Irving's  Selections— J.  W.  Graham  25 


14  DAY  USE 

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